Sword Saint Artorias
by sledgehammer963
Summary: After being denied knighthood, master swordsman and outsider Artorias is tasked with protecting the three house leaders of Garreg Mach. When a mysterious man named Byleth saves the three leaders during a conflict, Artorias' current master reassigns him to serve and observe this young man that just became the instructor Garreg Mach desperately needed.
1. Disclaimer: Read before

To the person fixing to read this chapter. I must inform you that this story is told from a different perspective. It is based around my first playthrough of the game, so my opinions, experiences and outcome will differ greatly from everyone else. I do not aim to demonize any character other than the ones I created. However, the story will be told from a character I created. Later on, it will explain why since this is a "What if" scenario. As for now, this is just a "testing the waters" draft.

If you feel like this story might be worth investing in, you are more than welcome to check out Senran Kagura Darkness (Vol 1) and Senran Kagura Arkanum (Vol 2) for a rough idea on how I do things. As for this story though, the most hardcore element will be the brutal, medieval warfare and violence. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy the first chapter of _"Sword Saint Artorias."_

_Sledgehammer963_


	2. Chapter 1

"Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Smoke from the tip of my cigarette softly floats through the night's gentle air. The taste of unrefined tobacco floods my mouth as I take a big drag and exhale. However, it cannot soothe the extreme annoyance I am currently feeling right now.

"You're surrounded! We got ten men here! You have no chance, so just tell us where the kids are, and we may let you go, for now!" One of the marauders yells at me.

I remain quiet and continue puffing on my cigarette as I try to savor every last bit of nicotine. Someone had the bright idea of taking the kids out into the forest at night. Supposedly, it would help them strengthen their depth perception since fighting can break out at any time, and it was my responsibility as well Alois's to watch over them in case something like this happened.

Despite my warnings this would happen, no one ever listens to me. Although my rank is below Alois's, he listens. I told him to take our protection detail to go save the kids while I dealt with this. He didn't question because he knew I'd just lit up.

Leave it to the people who don't know how the world works to make the decisions. Nobility at its finest. Sometimes I hate being their fool, but I get paid to be a weapon regardless, and it's my obligation to see the will through. No matter how demeaning or stupid it is.

I intently listen and calculate how many men there truly are. He said ten. This bandit seriously needs to learn how to count, because I hear thirteen. eight with swords, two spearmen, an axe wielder, a horseback rider, and an archer.

I take one last drag on my cigarette and enjoy the ephemeral solace before spitting it out onto the ground. I place my thumb on the guard of my sword and press forward. The sheathe clicks and releases the blade.

"I'd put both hands on that little dagger!" The marauder yells as they close in.

The sound of an arrow being notched against the bow string hits me in the ears as the drawstring causes the wooden longbow to tense up and crinkle. Wood grinding against wood pierces the night as the feather fletching offers a faint suppression as the arrow bolts off the bow and heads directly toward me.

I draw my sword and slice to my right side. The black steel of my blade cuts the arrow in half as I spin around flick my wrist. A doubled edged throwing knife ejects from my left gauntlet. I catch the handle and throw it at the archer with one clean movement.

The knife hits the man directly in the neck. He grabs his throat and falls over as he gargles and chokes on his own blood. The surprise of the counter attack leaves all of my foes in shock as they all turn around and gaze at their dying comrade.

As they hesitate to come to terms with what just happened, I replace the sword in its sheathe, rush forward and calmly pull the blade back out. The black steel cuts through the leather as if they were paper armor, and three men fall to the ground with blood spurting from their exposed chests.

I bring the sword back around and cut vertically. The weapons catches the axe wielder in the shoulder and cuts his arm completely off. He screams in agony as he falls to the ground, trying to clench what he no longer has.

"Bastard!" One of the spearmen yells as he rushes at me.

He jabs at me with the tip. I raise my leg up and stomp the spear into the ground. He stumbles forward and falls to his knees. I lean to the side, and the tip of another spear slides beside me. His blade buries itself all the way to the prongs as the man in front coughs and falls over. I spin the sword around and stab behind me. My attacker yells in pain as I reposition my hands and yank up, splitting him open from his stomach to his shoulder.

"Come on! He's just one man! Get in there and kill him!" I hear the man on the horse yell as his animal rears back and charges at me.

I re-sheathe the black steel sword and reach around back for my claymore. It slides out of the custom scabbard as I bring it around and deflect the incoming jab from the horseman's lance. The weight of the claymore overpowers the lance, and the man loses his balance. I smack the horse in the butt with the flat end of the blade. It violently neighs and throws the man off the horse as it runs off into the woods.

I raise the claymore and ram it through the man's chest. The remaining five wielding swords rush me all at once. I weave in and out of their attacks and look for an opportunity to strike. One man blindly swings at me. I deflect an attack with poor technique, and he falls to the ground. His weapon flies out of his hand as I slash sideways and take out three more of my attackers.

The last man attempts to run off. I rear back and chunk the claymore at him. The weapon spirals through the air and drives itself all the way up to the hilt. The man let's out a small grunt of surprise as he hits the ground. I take my black steel sword back out and flip it upside down.

The man I knocked down is back up and trying to grab a sword. I rush forward and drag the blade across his gut as he half heartedly swings and misses. I spin around behind him as he falls to the ground. He's had enough, but even if I did spare him, he'd just bleed out and suffer. I ram the blade through his back. He flinches from the impact before falling face down. I pull the blade out and flick it. Dots of crimson form a perfect line along the bare ground as the sword spits all the blood off its black body. I spin it around and drag the sword across the fur of my left gauntlet before sticking it back in the sheathe.

One of the men uses the broken shaft of a spear to work himself up to his knees. His breath is laced with painful groaning as he attempts to stand. Despite his determination, he can't get past kneeling. I walk back over to where I spit my cigarette out. It's been trampled by someone's foot, and the river of blood flooding out the bodies have completely stained it red.

I let out a disappointed sigh and reach into my side satchel. The spare was supposed to be for tomorrow since the merchant I buy my tobacco, paper and matches from only comes by the church once a week, and that's if he can smuggle it in. Otherwise, I'll have to walk to the village nearby.

I stick the cigarette into my mouth and place a sulfur tipped match against a piece of gritty sandpaper. The sulfur ignites and lets out a small flame as I stick it up to my cigarette and light the tip. Smoke from the freshly rolled tobacco rolls down my tonsils and fills my chest with bittersweet heat.

"That black steel sword… that must mean you are the…son of the obsidian wolf. I thought she was just a myth. A scary story people told their children…but you…you really are her…pup."

I remain silent as I yank the throwing dagger out of the archer's throat, wipe it off on his leather armor and put it back in the hollowed-out recess in my gauntlet. The man is still going on and on about the Obsidian wolf. Although all of this is old news to me. Every bandit or marauder that managed to survive his injuries long enough to talk tells me the same story. Most of it is true to some extent.

Although they always miscount how men she killed. Most say four battalions in her lifetime. I'd say more like eight. Even I don't know the exact number, and I spent fifteen years of my life with her.

"If you would have told us you were her son, then we would have left you and the kids alone. Why didn't you tell us?"

I continue my silence as I pull my claymore out of the man that tried to run away. It's definitely going to need a polish after this because the entire blade is coated red. I swing the weapon around and get most of the blood off before rubbing both sides off on my cloak. What's left of the red fluid seeps into the cloth.

I fling the claymore around and stick it back in my shielded red oak back scabbard. The blade catches the bevels and slides down into the channel as it returns to its normal position.

"Nothing personal, you just interrupted my smoke break." I reply.

The man let's out a hysterical laugh as I hear his body hit the ground with a loud thump. Now all that's left to do is catch up with Alois. The horse I smacked early comes out of the woods and walks in my direction.

"Easy there boy." I say as I gently approach the horse. The animal doesn't seem moved or startled as I carefully inch my way towards him.

The horse lets out a snort and continues walking in my direction. I reach out, and the horse leans his head forward. Despite belonging to a marauder, it's relatively tame and use to human interaction.

"That's right. You're calm, I'm calm. Everyone is calm." I say as I ease to the side and test the animal's patience by stepping into the stirrup.

I throw my leg over and saddle up. The animal is still calm as I give him a gentle spur. Hitting him too hard might aggravate him, so I'll take it easy until he gets adjusted to me. I reach down and rub the side of his neck, "Good boy, or girl. Whatever you are."

I can't really see what color the horse truly is, but it appears to have a gold coat. Even the face is solid gold. Most horses have some kind painted face, but this one doesn't have any kind of marking or spots anywhere as far as I can tell.

However, deciding gender, and the color of this animal isn't important. Although they are all important, the daughter of the Emperor is the priority. Mainly because it was my turn to protect her. Although the kid can protect herself, it still doesn't free me from my obligation.

I give the horse another gentle spur, and he ascends into a trot. Okay, let's retrace the steps: I was minding my own business, fixing to light up, I was talking to Alois, and my life before I became a sword saint. Then he asked why Rhea denied me knighthood, but I didn't comment on why.

That's when Alois and I were confronted by the fools back there, and I told him to take the detail and find those kids. The last I seen them; they were heading west. I look up at the sky, find the northern star and use it as a beacon to guide myself.

Off in the distance, I can see the faint glow of torches, and the outline of houses take shape as I get closer. The fallen bodies of marauders and some knights litter the ground below me as I slow the horse down. Barging out of the woods at full speed will only get me an arrow to the face, or a pike driven into the horse.

I slide off the horse and lead the animal by the reins into the clearing. Up ahead, I can see Alois and a couple of the knights talking to a grizzled man and some boy. With the way Alois is talking to them, it appears that he knows him on a personal level.

As for the boy, he has a rather unique appearance. His hair color is a very dark shade of green. He's wearing a black coat that covers his matching armor. A gold girdle snugly secures his entire outfit together. He's even got an elegant looking dagger resting in a blue sheathe mounted on the front part of his belt.

His eyes however, are the most striking feature he has. Despite having the glow of unpolished sapphires, they are really unique looking. Almost like someone took a chisel and carved lines deep into his retinas.

"Well look who decided to show up." A sarcastic voice states as I bring the horse over.

"Better late than never." I reply as I snuff my cigarette out, put it away and bow before the woman I'm in charge of protecting. "Your Majesty, forgive me. I was occupied with a group of marauders and was unable to ensure your safety."

She reaches out and touches my shoulder, "You have nothing to apologize for Artorias. None of us got hurt, and that's all that matters."

I look up into her violet eyes and she nods. That means all is forgiven, and I'm allowed to return to my feet. Future Adrestian Emperor Edelgard is the only one out of the three house leaders that truly understands my dedication to them and their safety.

Prince Dimitri, the next ruler of the kingdom of Fargheus has yet to grasp the level of dedication one must have to ensure that his life does not fall into the hands of his enemies. I understand the man needs time to himself, and he receives that time within the walls of a protected area, but Rhea commanded that he is not to be alone outside unless he is escorted by some kind of protection detail.

The one I butt heads with the most is the eventual leader of the Leicester Alliance, Claude. My ways are nothing like his. He claims that I am blindly obedient to those in power. That I'm nothing more than a sword, and that I don't value my life. That's none of his concern if I value my life or not. My sole purpose in this world is to uphold the morals and standards my mother set forth for me.

"So how many men did you kill? Eight?" Claude asks as he looks at place where I wiped the blood off onto my cloak.

"Thirteen. I even brought Edelgard a peace offering." I reply.

"That is very kind of you Artorias, but take care of him for me."

"If it is the wishes of the future emperor, then I have no choice but to accept."

"What if we all converged and told you to stop smoking?" Claude teases as I pull my burnt cigarette back out and strike a match.

"Not a chance."

"Seriously. You should consider the health risks. Inhaling smoke can't be good for you." Dimitri states as I flick the match off, take a huge breath and release a thick cloud of white smoke.

"Yeah well, that's a price I'm willing to pay." I reply as I turn my attention to the guest of our group.

"Artorias, this is Byleth. Him and his father saved us when we got ambushed by those bandits." Claude states.

The both of us reach out firmly grab each other's forearm and shake as we look each other straight in the eye. Normally eye contact really unnerves people for some reason. This fellow however has no fear in his eyes. In fact, his eyes do nothing but radiate strength and confidence.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance Sir Artorias."

"The feeling is mutual." I answer as the both of us release each other's arm.

"I like your swords."

"Thank you."

"Where did you get them?" Byleth asks.

"This one belonged to mother before she passed it down to me. As for the claymore, she helped me forge it from raw ore."

"You know how to smith?" Dimitri interrupts.

"I know a thing or two. It was a hobby of hers, and she found great joy in teaching me her ways of forging as well as Fodlan's."

"So how long did the claymore take?" Dimitri asks.

"About two months. Since we were nomads, we were constantly on the move and most villages didn't have water mills for power tools, so I had to draw the blade and tang out by hand while mother gathered the materials for the hilt, handle, pommel and scabbard."

I pull the claymore out and hand it to Byleth. He gets a firm grip on it and gives it a couple practice swings to test the weight and balance. Most people usually fumble around with it because of the hefty weight and sizable blade. Yet, this man swings it as if it were just a regular sword.

He holds it up and stares into the dried Damascus steel and examines it from hilt to tip. His eyes brush over the foreign symbols and a puzzled look comes to his face, "What's this?" Byleth asks.

"It's the sword's name."

"Interesting. I don't know many people who name their weapons." He hands the weapon back and I slide it back into my back scabbard. Normally, I'd be very skeptical of someone who can just wave a sword around like that, but something about this guy seems… special. I don't know what.

"Anyway, I don't have anything to give you for your trouble right now, but if you come to Garreg Mach with us, I'll make it worth your while since you saved the kids." I state.

"How many times do I have to tell you this, we aren't kids." Claude snaps as I step into the stirrup and balance myself on the saddle.

"Really? Because I couldn't tell between a three-year-old and you." I chuckle as I take the cigarette stump from my mouth and flick it out towards the woods.

"Such a joker! Anyway, you are coming to the monastery with us?" Claude asks Byleth.

Byleth causally nods his head, "Yes."

"Good." I reply as I spur the horse and begin my way back to Garreg Mach. Claude, Dimitri and Edelgard take the lead while I keep my eyes open for any potential threats or dangers. Byleth hesitates for a moment as we all get a lead. I stop to look around, but the moment I do, he picks up the pace and walks right beside me.

Up ahead, I can see the other knights including Alois, and a rough cut looking fellow with scars all over his face. He's certainly seen his fair share of battles. By the way Alois is talking to him, and the way the man seems somewhat annoyed, it appears they knew each other in the past.

"So that man up there. That your father?" I ask.

"That's what I've called him my whole life. I don't really know if it is or not."

"I see. Well I understand being raised by someone that's like your real parent, but isn't." I reply as we continue onward…


	3. Chapter 2

"So your dad is the famous blade breaker?"

"Yup."

"Well that makes a lot of sense. Not very many people can just swing a claymore around the way you did." I state as I make idol conversation with Byleth.

I remember before I became a sword saint of Garreg Mach, I used to hear stories of a man that had to ability to snap swords in half with his bare hands. His name was Jeralt, and he could cut a man clean in half with a rusty, dull blade. It never occurred to me that I'd be talking to his son.

Although I don't know the whole story, I do know that he used to be a knight of Serios before he left the monastery. In the five years I was at Garreg Mach, he was the talk of the town, and Lady Rhea seemed to think fairly high of him. Although I would understand if he left. I don't have a very high opinion of the woman either, but Rhea gave me a place to stay despite being what she calls a good man with heathen ways, so I have no choice but to answer to her regardless of what she thinks of me.

"Well there it is, Garreg Mach." Claude says as he points off in the distance.

Upon the mountains rests the stone monastery. Strategically placed between the Adrestrian Empire, the Holy Kingdom of Fargheus and the Leicester Alliance, it's where people from all three countries come to study warfare and train to become knights, mages or clerics.

A majority of the students consist of nobles. People who come from wealthy families that bare crests. Just the thought arouses anger within me. People rant on and on how great crests are supposed to be, and that they are supposed to be blessings bestowed to special people from some sky wizard that lives in the sky. I've been on this earth for twenty-five years, and I have yet to see one good thing come from crests, or nobles themselves. Some are halfway decent people, but a majority of nobles think too highly of themselves.

Then there are the commoners. People who literally sold their souls to get into this academy so they could have a chance to actually carve an honest living for themselves. A life that's not dictated by a noble or some bandit warlord.

I keep an eye out for a specific vendor as we all enter the front gates of Garreg Mach. He's not here, so that means no more smokes until tomorrow. I was really craving one right now, but I guess water will have to do for now.

"Artorias."

"Yes Lady Edelgard."

"Go put your horse up, get Ferdinand and meet me back at our home classroom."

"Very good ma'am." I reply as I spur the horse. He busts off into a mild trot and heads up the stairs. I pull the reins right and guide him down a narrow pathway that leads to the stables. There are several people from the different houses cleaning, feeding and laying down fresh hay for the animals.

"Whow, whow!" I yell as I tug back on the reins and slow the horse down.

"Artorias! You're back!" I hear a voice yell out.

Out from the stable walks a girl in a blue lion's uniform. Her blonde hair is secured behind her back and tied into a ponytail. She carefully walks over and slowly reaches out towards my horse. The animal moves his head towards her hand, and she gives him a friendly pat on his snout.

"He's beautiful!" Ingrid says as she checks and determines the sex, "I mean, she's beautiful! Where'd you get her?"

"Now you'd be amazed at what those bandits leave lying around." I reply as several other people come out from the stable.

"How much for the horse?" Ferdinand asks with a huge grin.

"Not for sale." I reply.

"Oh come on Artorias! Can you imagine it? Me riding across the battlefield atop of this golden steed? I'd be the envy of all the knights in Fodlan, and you'd be a very rich man!"

"Well, I guess if you promise to take care of her, I'll let you ride…"

"YES!" Ferdinand cheers.

"But not on the battlefield. At least not until she's battle-hardened, and you're an actual knight."

"Ah, why? I can take care of myself!"

"Because I said you're not ready, and that's final." I reply as I straighten the tuff wrinkles out of my black hair.

"Very well Artorias." Ferdinand replies as he takes a deep breath and calms himself.

I can tell he wants to argue, but it's not going to work. Not to mention, he knows I'm right. Whether the horse is battle ready or not is yet to be determined, but Ferdinand is just a kid. He's training to be a cavalier, but he's got a long way to go before he can set foot on an actual battlefield. Let alone on top of an animal.

I slide off the horse and we lead him into an empty stall, "Oh, I'm sorry Ingrid. Same goes for you."

"Thank you Artorias, but I think I'm going to focus on becoming a Pegasus knight."

"Flying? Sounds tedious, but if that's what you want to do, I'm behind you all the way."

"You say that now, but just you wait. You'll see." Ingrid replies.

"I'm sure I will." I let out a small chuckle. "Speaking of which, Edelgard has called for a meeting in our home classroom, and she needs you to come as soon as possible."

"Alright. You coming?" Ferdinand says as he straightens his uniform out and combs his orange hair back into its sleek style.

"I have to head to the sanctuary."

"Oh, yeah. I'll tell Edelgard." Ferdinand says.

"Thanks Ferdinand."

I wave them goodbye and make my way to the sanctuary. Although what I am doing is totally unnecessary, it does tend to boost my spirits after a battle. Gives me the feeling that all the blood I spill is justified.

People like me serve one purpose in life. Although my thoughts on the matter are extremely negative, there are people that can't protect themselves, and it eases the heavy sin of bloodshed that clogs my heart knowing that I am doing a good work.

I enter the threshold of the sanctuary and keep my head down. Multiple kids from the different houses populate the massive room. Stained glass murals of the goddess, and her assumed blessings on all of Fodlan cast a rainbow of vibrate color upon the stone floor. I'm not denying they might have happened, I'm just not the one for speculation. I make my way to the very front of the sanctuary and avoid eye contact with everyone by staring at the murals.

"Come to offer up your daily prayers to the goddess?" The boy with purple hair standing next to me asks.

"I'm not the religious type." I reply as I try to avoid a conversation.

"Then what brought you here?"

"Sightseeing." I answer.

"Sightseeing? What would someone like you possible want to see inside a sanctuary if religion isn't his thing?"

"You're a real pain Lorenz. You know that?"

"Well if you aren't the religious type, then why would you be here?" He continues to prod.

"You want me to be religious, then I'll say a prayer. My prayer is you find a better hair dresser."

"Boy Artorias, I didn't know you had a sense of humor. Aren't you the funny man?" Lorenz teases.

Out of all the students in this academy, nobody knows how to get my goat like Lorenz. He is easily the best at it. Lorenz knows why I'm here, and it isn't to offer up prayers of solitude or forgiveness.

"Artorias! You're okay!" I hear a voice yell out from my left.

"Oh, so that's why you came." Lorenz whispers.

"Can it chump." I mumble under my breath before turning towards the voice I heard.

She's dressed in her sacred garments. Her silver, colored hair flows out from her white coif, and the baby blue colored eyes radiate through her headdress. "Forgive me Artorias. I was in prayer." She says as she moves the veil.

"Nothing to be concerned about. You asked me to stop by after our training exercise." I reply.

"Yes. I was informed that you came across some bandits. Are you okay?"

"I am Honora."

She puts her hands together and smiles, "Thank the goddess you are."

As much as I want to make a comment, I'll just keep quiet, shake my head and act spiritual. It keeps me out of trouble. Most people end up getting the axe when they have beliefs such as myself, but because I am the one that drops the axe, all I get is a slap on the wrist, and a lecture from Lady Rhea.

"Artorias, are you currently doing anything?"

"Well I came to check up on you, and then Edelgard wanted talk to me in her home room."

"I was actually heading that way myself. Lady Rhea has excused me, and the other officials for the day. Would you walk with me back to my room?"

"Of course."

I look over at Lorenz and give him a little, halfhearted salute as Honora gives him a noble bow. We both head out the front door. I swap sides and hold out my arm that doesn't have any dried blood on it and slowly escort her down the stairs. Because she's a top official, she has to dress up every day in these weird looking shoes with long, thin heels. With what I've heard from the girls around the academy, they are absolute murder when walking up and down stairs.

We get to the base of the steps where everything flattens out and Honora let's go. Because she's a top official, Honora gets to sleep on the second floor of the dorms. They were supposed to be doing away with that system of nobles on top, commoners on bottom, but supposed to usually means no.

Although the social constructs of this academy have nothing to do with an individual's overall worth, it is somewhat degrading to those that can barely make it in. Which to me, it's the nobles that are inferior.

These who-do the voodoo magical teens with emblems painted on their skins can't walk through life like normal people. Why should they get better treatment? They didn't have to work for anything, but that's not the worst of it. When mother was still alive, we lodged with a commoner family that sold their daughter to some noble just for the slight hope of their offspring bearing a crest.

We didn't stay long enough after that, but mother was absolutely disgusted. She told me that this is why crests are a plague to society. Mother explained that the kids that didn't bear a crest of any kind, would be thrown away like trash, and more than likely end up marauders. Much like the ones I killed last night.

However, Honora is the reason I started to believe that things could change. She was a commoner, but she has recently worked long and hard to become Lady Rhea's top advisor. A title that is not easy to come by, and she has been trying to persuade people with authority to try and find a way to do away with crests. So far, it's been to no avail, but we'll see that it gets done. One way or another.

"So how do you like your new room?" I ask.

"To be honest, it's no different from my old room. Other than a couple of new luxuries like a tea kettle, fire place and a place to store a sword. In fact, I prefer old room. It was on the first floor, and I didn't have to walk up a flight of stairs. What about you? You still living in that house you built outside the gates?" Honora asks.

"Yup."

"How's it holding up?"

"Well Edelgard and Ferdinand donated some lumber so I could make some repairs. Claude, Dimitri and some of their house members came by and helped me fix the shingling and door. I told them I'd just do it myself, but you know those kids. Wouldn't listen even if you told them the sky was blue." I state.

Honora lets out a small chuckle and takes a hold of my arm again as we head up the dormitory stairs leading up to the second floor, "Well it sounds like they really care about you."

"Maybe a little too much."

"Oh, don't be that way Artorias! You need to loosen up! Here, come have some tea with me!" Honora states as she kicks her high heels off and walks over to her tea kettle.

"I would love to Honora, but Edelgard is expecting me back at the home classroom. Maybe later."

"Well I will be expecting you real soon! And you can't say no next time!" Honora states.

"I can't promise, but I will certainly try to make time."

"I'll see you later Artorias!"

"Bye Honora."

We wave each other goodbye, and I head back downstairs. If only Edelgard wouldn't have told me to meet her after getting Ferdinand. I certainly would have sat down and drank tea with Honora. Someday, but not today.

I get back on the cobblestone path and follow it back to Edelgard's home classroom. Guards and students along the way are all casting looks at me. Some even mutter under their breaths. I can't hear what they are saying, but I know what they are thinking. They are ridiculing me because of my sword.

Most knights here use standard longswords forged right here in Fodlan. The blade I carry comes from a land far across the seas. It also doesn't help the fact that I am from Fodlan anyway, and most of the criticism I get from everyone is, "why would a man from western Fodlan use a weapon from a land far to the east?" It wouldn't help even if I explained how the sword ended up in my possession.

Edelgard is standing over by the chalkboard as I enter her home room. Everyone else from her house isn't here. Which is strange since today was a school day.

"Dearest Edelgard."

"Artorias."  
I give her a noble bow and stand at attention, "Where are the others?"

"In their dorms or enjoying the day off. By the way, at ease."

"What for?" I say as I relax.

"That's what I wanted to talk about."

Edelgard sits down at one of the desks and gives me the notion and permission to sit down. I pull the chair out from the table and sit.

"That man that saved us, Byleth I believe. He's been appointed as an instructor." Edelgard states.

"How?"

"I don't know, and it bothers me."

"What house?"

"Hubert said he will be instructing Claude's house for now, and the whole thing seems suspicious to me."

"Garreg Mach isn't the one to hire any blowhard that just happens to wonder in."

"There's something special about that Byleth. I can tell." Edelgard states.

"What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"I am reassigning you to assist and serve this Byleth fellow. I want you to observe what you see and report."

"What about y'all?"

"Hubert and I will be fine. We don't plan on doing anything too dangerous anytime soon, but if we do, then I'll tell you."

"Then consider me Byleth's new overwatch." I state.

"Very good Artorias. I'll inform Lady Rhea of my decision. Class has let out for today so you are excused from your duties. Tomorrow will go back to the regular schedule."

"Yes Edelgard."

She puts her hand on my shoulder and dismisses me. I give an honorable gesture and exit the room. So my new job consists of protecting the new guy? Sounds easy enough. Speaking of which, I wonder why Lady Rhea was so eager to put him on as an instructor. He's got no training as an actual teacher. Sure, he may be good with a sword, but what about axes? Spears? Bows? Calvary? Barehanded brawls? Magic?

Most of the students that come here aren't here to focus strictly on swords. Sure, being effective with a sword is a very important skill to have, but swords are countered with spears, and spears are powerless against armor.

The whole thing just screams conspiracy of some kind. Lady Rhea is hiding something about this man, and I want to know what. For now though, I will have to keep my distance and learn what I can from the shadows. Since I have Edelgard's approval, Lady Rhea shouldn't give me too much hassle if I'm around Byleth all the time.

I head out the front gate of Garreg Mach and stray off the main path. The sun is on the verge of setting, and the iridescent color of light gives the fresh bark on the oak trees a vibrant shade of orange. I place my foot at the base of an oak and launch myself up onto the nearest branch and quickly scale to the top.

There isn't any way to enjoy the view to its fullest extent from the ground level. You can't really take in all the little details that make a magnificent view even more beautiful. I rest my back up against the base of the tree and look out over the landscape.

Several crystal colored streams roll downhill over massive chunks of rock and filter their way into a lake far off in the distance. The way the light reflects off the water almost gives it a shimmer much like gold. The only time it's even more beautiful than this is when we have a good winter season.

The pearl white ground, gold colored water, flakes of snow wisping around in the gentle breeze. I'd seen many beautiful places in my life, but this one has to be one of, if not the most breathtaking. As much as I'd like to watch the sun completely set, I need to get back home while there is still light.

I jump to the next tree over and hop from branch to branch. The house isn't too far away, and it wouldn't be difficult to get back in the dark, but the armor needs polishing. I shift my weight back and use it to drop down to the branches below. My boots touch the worn, trampled path that leads to my house.

It isn't nothing spectacular. Just the bare minimums. A small bed, a fireplace with a spit and pot for water, and a shelf. It's shelter and nothing more. However, the reason I chose to build my place here is right behind the house is a stream that's right above a thermal vein. It naturally keeps the water hot, and it's where I relax or meditate.

I unsheathe my sword and unlock the door. Nothing has been tampered with since I've been gone. Not that there's much to steal in the first place.

I flip up the blanket on my bed and grab a drying cloth, a small bar of depleted lavender lye, and a fresh set of clothes. Tomorrow is when my commission will come in, so what's left of the lye can be used to bathe and wash my clothes. I break the small bar in half, take my armor off and head for the thermal vein behind my house.

The area gets warmer, and the air develops that wet, sticky feeling similar to humidity. Steam radiates from a calm section of the stream, and a thin fog of white covers the water. I grab a bucket I hid within a nearby bush and ease down by the stream's side. Although it's tempting to just plunge in, I drink this water along with some of the villagers that live further downriver. My body has to be clean before I sit down and rest.

Water slowly seeps into the wooden bucket and sloshes all over the place as I carry it away over to a tree stump away from the water's edge. White froth forms at the very brim, and the bubbling liquid almost gives the water the appearance of cream.

I drop the chunk of lye into the bucket and let it set while I pull all my clingy, sweat dried clothes off. The ground warms the soles of my feet and sends chills up my spine. I reach into the bucket and vigorously rub my hands together. The weak smell of lavender and wood ash infuses itself into the water's steam and radiates with a faint fragrance.

I ball my fist around with the piece of lye and scrub the suds into my body. Back at the academy, hopefully Honora wasn't repulsed. I don't think I smelled too bad considering I had bathed that morning before we met Byleth. It was only a day, but because she's a top official, she isn't ever around a battlefield, and it concerns me that her nose is sensitive. Lorenz didn't make a big deal out of it, so it must not have been bad.

Although chivalry is a bad joke, it should apply to certain situations. Me rushing in to see Honora was my fault. I should have cleaned up first and made myself presentable. There was still bloodstains on my gauntlets. However, Honora was looking forward to walking with me. More of a reason to clean up before next time.

The small chunk of lye completely dissolves as I work the rest into my black hair and rinse the suds off with the water in the bucket. The sudden warmth from the water lights my skin up with the gentle touch of fire, but quickly fades away as the atmosphere cools me down. Everything is clean.

I scoop up another bucket of water and sit it off to the side while I step in. The relaxing touch of water rolling over my scars, and the steam collecting on my face relieves some of the stress I am currently experiencing. The moisture rehydrates my steel colored eyes and helps take my mind off my rumbling stomach.

Hopefully the commission tomorrow will actually be enough this time. Last week's barely covered anything, and things really had to stretch in order to make it. The only reason I had enough to eat was because Honora and Ingrid came by a couple times and brought me food. Edelgard and Hubert normally send some of their house members to bring me something, but they'd all been busy this week.

Hunting hasn't been going too well because most of the big game haven't migrated back yet, and birds are off limits. Crows and ravens are unclean, and beautiful birds like cardinals and doves are said to contain the souls of peaceful people who were murdered in cold blood.

Ah, I'll be fine. I've have survived worse. If anything, I should be grateful I have what I do. A roof over my head, fire, water, this thermal vein, and food. Most of the time. I just need to tell the church I need stuff like jerky and canned vegetables on my commission rather than fresh food.

It's kind of degrading when someone like Honora or Ferdinand comes by, and all I have to offer is water and unleavened bread. Most of the time, they bring me stuff, and it makes me feel bad because I have nothing of equal exchange to offer back. Those that live within Garreg Mach get to eat the cream of the crop, and when students come to me for elite swordsman training or advice, they have to eat what I am able to provide. Which isn't much, but I guess that's the point.

As much as I don't want to, my armor really needs a good polish and those clothes need cleaning. I get out of the water and pat myself with the drying cloth. By now, the sun has completely dropped below the mountains, and the dying light is slowly succumbing to darkness.

I rinse my feet off with some of the bucket water, and put the set of fresh clothes on. Beads of water that I missed when I was drying off bleeds through my clothing and gives my body a fragrant, ash smell. Almost like wood smoke blowing through a field of blooming lavender.

The house is still the same from earlier. I keep my sword at the ready and open the door. Nothing has changed nor has anything been touched. Good. I walk over to the fireplace and set up some dried hay to act as tinder. Most people use matches to start fires, but those are expensive and they light my tobacco, and I don't have many left. However, magnesium and flint are cheap.

I take my sword and run it down a magnesium block. Grey shavings speckle the dry grass as I take the flint and rake it down my sword constantly. The rock throws handfuls of sparks into the magnesium filled tinder.

"Almost there." I say as smoke slowly rises out of the grass.

The magnesium catches, and the tinder attempts to burst into flames. I cup my hands around it and gently blow. The orange takes a firm hold on the brown grass, and it coughs out a huge cloud of smoke. I slowly stack more grass on top along with a couple sticks and some tree bark. The fire grows in strength and height that it's stable enough to handle anything. I put a split log on the fire and sprinkle some more dried grass on top.

The flames lick the side of the log and chars the outside of the body. I pour some of the water I collected earlier into a pot and hang it over the fire so it can purify. It's probably fine to drink without boiling since the water is already heated, but there's no need to take a chance.

I toss the last half of the lavender lye into the bucket and spin the water with my hands until suds form. Although this is the worst part of the day, it's the most rewarding. I slather the suds onto my dirty clothes, knead the soap into the fabric and dunk them in the bucket a handful of times.

The clothes smell a lot better than they did, so it's safe to assume they are done. I hang them put them on the drying rack on the front porch and head back in. Now the last thing to do is polish my armor, but there's only one spot that needs to be touched up, and that was on the fur of my left gauntlet.

I soak half a rag into the bucket of soapy water and scrub the fur until the red disappears, then I dip the other half in oil and buff the scratches on the metal. The rejuvenating syrup seeps into the scars and gives the steel a dull but glossy look. Although it wasn't too scratched up in the beginning, it's satisfying to see at how it looked before, and what it looks like now.

I toss the oily rag into the fire and grab a wooden tankard. A violent outburst of smoke rises as the flames violently gobble up the spent rag. The water inside the pot has come to a rolling boil. Bubbles erupting from the bottom force the surface to roll and tremor. Steam carries off any impurities that may have been within the water and exits out the windows.

Gentle heat brushes across my face as the water rolls down the back of my throat. The sudden, scorching touch of the fluid causes me to take a quick sip and pull away as the back of my throat warms itself. This would go good with some smoked meat or a handful of jerky and some dried fruit, but the water will have to do until tomorrow.

I finish the tankard of water and scoop out some more water to cool overnight. That way there's something to treat the cottonmouth if it affects me tonight. If not, then at least there's some cool water that can be chugged in the morning. I toss another log into the fire and dust my bed out with my pillow.

No insects or snakes trying to force me out of my own bed. I toss the pillow back and lay down. Despite nothing major happening tomorrow, it feels like something is going to happen, and it's going to involve that Byleth fellow. Oh well, a matter for the morning…


	4. Chapter 3

_Clonk, clonk, clonk!_

The front door rattles from the impact of someone's hand. Judging by the muffled sound, they must be wearing a pair of gloves. I let out a huge yawn and sit up as the gouging sunlight scratches at my watering eyes.

"Hold on, I'm coming." I say as I unlatch the door and peek out the small crack. The first thing I notice is a pair of golden eyes, and someone sporting light blue fuzz for hair.

"Good morning Artorias."

"Hello Artorias."

I open the door all the way, "Morning Hubert. Morning Caspar. Would you two like some water?"

"No thank you." Hubert replies in a monotone voice.

"I'll take some." Caspar says.

Hubert is carrying a small, wooden box while Caspar has some kind of enveloped letter. I stick my sword back in the sheathe and toss it on the bed. Hubert and Caspar both take a seat by the fire. I grab another clean tankard and pour half a cup for Caspar.

"Here you go."

"Thank you Artorias." Caspar says as he takes a big drink.

"Are you sure you don't want any water Hubert? I can go out to the river and get some more."

"I actually had some coffee before I came to get you, but thanks for the offer." He replies.

I take a drink out of my tankard and swish the water. The fluid swirls around my mouth and rehydrates my gums before it rolls down the back of my throat and removes the cotton forming on my tonsils. Caspar has his drank already. He's trying to hide the fact he's still thirsty, but he doesn't seem like he wants to ask for more.

"What's the box for?" I ask.

"A special someone came to see you yesterday, but you weren't back yet, so Caspar and I took the liberty of getting it for you." Hubert states.

"Also, we have brought you the commission slip." Caspar adds.

"Thanks! That saved me a trip!"

I pull the top off the box. Inside is a can, some rolling paper, and a book of matches. The invigorating sweet, smell of freshly dried tobacco fills the house. Each strand of tobacco has a faint, gold streak that runs right down the middle. "Ah yeah. How much do I owe you?"

"Consider it a gift." Hubert replies.

"You're always doing stuff for us and not getting paid for it, so it's the least we could do!" Caspar adds.

I pinch out a nice wad of shredded tobacco, line a rolling paper and lick the flap to seal it shut. Hubert reaches into a pocket on his black uniform and pulls out a match, but I shake my head no. There's no need to waste a match. I lean in close to the fireplace and puff a couple times. The paper catches, and the tobacco leaves inside light up.

This type has a much different taste than the last batch. It has a really bitter but mellow flavor while smelling like dark roasted coffee. Which is probably why Hubert picked it out. Most of the time, it's a matter of what is available. Sometimes it's really good tobacco like this can, and sometimes it's the okay type. Then sometimes the supplier just throws a bunch of leaves together. Very rarely is there a high-quality kind.

Smoke exits my mouth as I let out a sigh of relief, "Ah, gold streak from the north. Can't beat it."

I pull out my commission slip and look it over: Two cafeteria meal vouchers, one loaf of unleavened flat bread, a pound of beef jerky, three apples, three oranges, a vial of honey, a bar of lye soap, and a jar of mint sodium bicarbonate. Well, I was really hoping for a new brush since my old one is about a year old, but I'll make due.

"So, what exactly does it taste like?" Caspar asks.

I take another huff and offer it to him. He grabs a hold of the roll and examines it closely. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he puts it in his mouth. Caspar breathes in a little and bursts into a coughing fit. He drops the roll and pounds on his chest.

I knew for a fact how this was going to go the moment I handed it to him, and hopefully he'll never do it again. Caspar isn't the one to turn down an offer. Nor does he ever back down. I burst out laughing as I pick the roll up and take a huge drag, "Ah, good stuff."

"How do you do that!?" Caspar asks in between desperate gasps for fresh air.

"You get used to it, and it's something a knight of your stature should never be doing." I reply as cinch my armor up.

"Well you don't have to worry about that ever again." Caspar states as he finally catches his breath. "Why don't you try taking a puff Hubert? It smells like coffee."

"Forgive me, but I must decline."

"No need for forgiveness Hubert. It's understandable."

I lace up the back sheathe strap and test the position by taking the claymore out and replacing it several times. Caspar walks over to my bed and picks up my sword. He's somewhat intrigued by it as he pulls it out of its sheathe. Unlike swords here in Fodlan, it's got a very slim profile.

"So why don't you use a regular sword made in Fodlan?" Caspar asks.

"Because I was entrusted with that sword. It was proof I was ready to bear the responsibility that came with wielding it." I reply.

Caspar's eyes trace down to the hilt of the weapon, and he spots the engraving on the sword. I reach over and gently take the sword form him and put it back in its sheathe, "let's get going. I have a job to do."

Hubert stands up and dusts himself off while Caspar opens the front door. I stomp the fire out and lock the door as we leave. Today looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. If we aren't in the text books, then Byleth may take us to the outdoor training ground. Hopefully.

Today, I have two tasks. One is more than likely standing in one place quietly while Byleth does his teaching and get my monthly commission. Actually, I might hand the slip off first. That way the merchants can gather my supplies up while I'm working.

"Artorias?"

"Yes Caspar?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why do you receive weekly commissions rather than actual pay? I mean, you do as much dirty work as everyone else."

"Well there are several reasons why."

"But it doesn't seem right." Caspar responds.

"It's because Lady Rhea sees Artorias as less than everyone else." Hubert states.

"Hey now. That's not true." I reply.

An awkward silence comes over the three of us. It feels like nobody wants to say anything because in a way, they are convinced it is true. Maybe it is true. Maybe it isn't. Even if Rhea did look at me as less than human, then why would she be giving me commission?

Yes, I don't receive all the benefits a sword of the church should receive, and I was denied knighthood because I refused to hand over this sword and accept one from the knights. Then there's the fierce argument Rhea and I had over white magic a couple years ago. The choice was mine, not Rhea's, and because I chose to reject the church's sword and slander the practice of white magic, I get commission instead.

Most of the students are heading to their home rooms. Caspar and Hubert go on while I break off and head to the market. The smell of very fragrant tea combined with spices and fresh baked bread and pastries fill the air with a blissful sense that causes my mouth to tense up and water. I approach the baker and act like I'm looking to buy something.

"Good morning sir! What can I do for you today?" The baker asks as he places his hands on the counter.

I hand him the commission slip, "I'll be back after work."

"Alright sir! I'll have it ready by then!"

"Thank you."

I take one final puff off my roll and pinch the end out before heading off to the home rooms. My breath is going to smell like nicotine, but there isn't any way for anyone to prove I was smoking on church grounds since it smells like coffee.

Byleth is drawing on the chalkboard and organizing his lesson plans. There isn't anywhere for me to really sit so I stand beside his desk and remain silent. The first one to arrive for class is some girl with blue hair. She's got her hair braided around her head in a way that resembles a wreathe.

My sheathe starts to rattle, and the hilt disengages from the sword. Faint, maroon mist flows out from the gap. I press the sword back down, but it forces its way out when my thumb leaves the hilt with a metallic click.

I unhitch the sheathe from my hip holster and hold it in front of me. One thumb presses the sword into the sheathe while my other hand acts as added strength to prevent it from overpowering me. The red mist it was spewing out quits, but the weapon's dedication continues to constantly fight back.

Another student with glasses walks in and sits in the front of the room. He is followed by a small girl with white hair and pink looking eyes. If I'm not mistaken, that's the girl that has two crests. Behind her is this big, burly boy with blonde hair.

I know him because we would brawl for fun. His name is Raphael, and where he lacks in smarts and technique, he excels in strength and fist fighting.

Both Claude and Lorenz walk in at the same exact time. Behind them are the final two students of the class. One girl has pink pigtails while the other has short, red hair. I think that's the one that's infatuated with Bladebreaker, but I could be mistaken.

Everyone takes a seat while Byleth stands in front of the class, "I have been informed that tomorrow, we will be taking part of a mock battle against the other houses."

Half of the class lets out a sigh of disappointment while the other half smile in anticipation of a fight. A mock battle this early? Of course. I understand why. This man has yet to prove himself a capable leader. Anyone can swing a sword around, but if he's to be an instructor, then he must prove he knows what to do on a battlefield. Therefore, proving he is capable of taking care of these kids.

"Because of this sudden development, I would for everyone to introduce themselves and state what you are studying so I can develop a strategy. Starting with you." Byleth points at me.

"Do you really expect me to participate in the mock battle?"

"Why not? You are part of this class according to Rhea."

"My name is Artorias. I'm an S+ rated swordsman and black caster. I am currently in the process of studying white magic from one of Rhea's top advisors."

"So you're saying you're E rated at something?" Lorenz pokes.

"You can't be a master at everything."

"Good." Byleth states. He points to the boy sitting in front of the class.

"Oh, Well I'm Ignatz. I came here to study warfare and become a knight." The blonde haired boy replies.

"My name is Lysithea, and I am studying magic."

"Name's Raphael, and I'm training to become a knight."

"I'm Hilda."

As the girl named Hilda introduces herself and why she came here, Claude leans over to Lorenz and whispers, "if you looked up lazy in the dictionary, you wouldn't even see a picture of Hilda, because she never got around to submitting it."

"What was that Claude?" Hilda asks.

"Nothing."

"No, you said something about me. What was it?"

"I think he was trying to describe to Lorenz that you're such a fragrant and beautiful young lady." I state.

"I don't believe it! You said something about me being lazy again, didn't you!?"  
"Oh well, I tried." I add as I shrug my shoulders.

"Okay! That's enough! If you have an issue with one another, settle it outside the classroom!" Byleth states in a stern voice. "Anyway, back to you." He points to the blue haired girl.

"Oh, well…I'm…" The girl starts pushing her fingers together and frantically jiggles her legs as she struggles to get her name out, "Marianne. I want…to serve as… a healer of some sort."

"Not a bad occupation. We could use more people like you." Byleth states as he moves to the final girl with short red hair.

"I'm Leonie! And I want to be a mercenary like your father!"

"Well, at least she's actually honest." I say inside my head.

Many kids come into these academies think being a knight makes you some kind of hero. It doesn't. If anything, you're just a tool for the highest bidder. That's what we all become in the very end. Swords only swing when there's money behind it.

The last two students are of course, Lorenz and Claude. Both of which are nobles of the Leicester Alliance. Which for some reason, they are getting along considerably well today. Normally, the two of them bicker and bite over who should rightfully rule the Leicester Alliance.

Claude is technically the rightful ruler, but because of politics and conflicting interests, people have been trying to undermine his right to the throne. Personally, I think Claude should be the leader over his part of the country. He's got a lot to learn, but out of everyone, Claude is intelligent enough to run the Leicester Alliance. Although I'd never admit something like that to him.

Lorenz on the other hand would be a good ambassador. Despite his prideful attitude, Lorenz does care about the commoners and their benefit, but the reason I wouldn't want him ruling is because he was born into nobility. Whereas Claude wasn't. At least, not at first.

Claude spent time as a commoner, so he is the most knowledgeable on how to make life better for the commoners. Whereas Lorenz would know how to find ways of making it better. That's just my thoughts on the whole ideal.

"Well that everyone has introduced themselves, this is what we are going to do. Who feels confident about tomorrow?" Byleth asks.

My hand goes up along with Raphael's, Leonie's and Lorenz's. Wow. That's it? I mean, I understand why some of the people aren't, but the fact that Claude's hand didn't go up concerns me. This isn't good. If Claude doesn't have some kind of motivation, then there is a possibility no one else will.

"Oh come on people! The least you can do is act like you care!" Leonie states.

"It's just a mock battle." Hilda replies.

"So? If we don't take it serious now, then how are we going to in the future?"

"I don't think I'll go tomorrow. Sleeping in sounds pretty nice." Hilda says as she throws her hands behind her head and leans back.

"Don't make me drag you out of that bed, because I'll do it!"

"Okay! Okay! I'll be there!" Hilda pleas as she motions that she surrenders.

That only leaves that Marianne and Lysithea. Although they're motives will be different, Lysithea is probably the only one that's trying to look at this logically. I don't know where everyone stands in terms of skill, but as long as everyone does their best, I'm sure we will be fine. The only real threat to us would be if we got surrounded and overwhelmed. Other than that, I'm sure we'll manage.

"Well Lysithea, what do you say?" Byleth asks.

"I don't know yet. We'll have to just wait and see."

"Then it's settled. Claude, you'll be on the frontline with me. Since I'm the instructor, I'll lead the way. Artorias, Lorenz, your goal is to keep the opposing forces from getting to Lysithea and Marianne. Guard them at all costs."

"Yes master." I reply.

"Consider it done!" Lorenz states.

"Leonie, Ignanz and Raphael will serve as our rear guard. Their job is to ensure that Lysithea and the others don't get flanked from behind."

"Looks like you'll be relying on my skill for protection Master Artorias." Lorenz states in his overly elegant and sarcastic voice.

"If that's the case, then I might consider praying to the goddess for protection." I tease back as I clasp my hands over my sword and make an over exaggerated prayer gesture.

"Then it's settled. We'll be heading out to the field at dawn. Students, I want to spend some time evaluating you. That way if there are any last-minute arrangements to make, I can do them before the battle."

Byleth dismisses class. Everyone picks up their books and prepares to leave as I exit the classroom.

Since there is still an entire day left, it would be wise to us this extra time to practice with Honora. That's if she isn't doing anything. Hopefully not. We've been working on a technique together, and it would be very beneficial if we could practice it since no one else knows about it.

The only problem is Honora is afraid that she is going to hurt me in the process. Which I don't have a problem with. She isn't very skilled with black magic, so it isn't much when things do go wrong. Not to mention that Honora is one of the best healers I know. There isn't any injury she can't treat.

I head up into the sanctuary and scan around. All around me, people with folded hands and bowed heads chant and pray to these different beings. Most of which I have no interest in learning about, but I fold my hands and casually walk through the aisle with my head angled down.

What feels like fingers wrap around my left wrist. The gentle tug spins me around and leads me back to the entrance of the church.

"Artorias, what are you doing outside of class?" Honora asks as she pulls the white veil out of her face.

"Master Byleth and I have a mock battle coming up tomorrow morning, so he dismissed class so he could evaluate the students and make adjustments."

"You didn't skip did you?"

"Of course not. Why would I do that?"

"Because last time, you told me class was dismissed just so you could come see me, and we got in trouble because class wasn't dismissed."

"Oh, so I skipped seminar one time. It's not like Hanneman was talking about anything interesting."

"Well, I can't really blame you there. Anyway, why are you here?"

"I was wondering if we could train again since we have that mock battle."

"Just as long as we don't try to manipulate the silence spell. I don't feel comfortable doing it now." Honora states.

"Yes Honora."

We make our way to the courtyard off the side of the church. I was really wanting to practice that silence manipulation, but I'm not going to pressure her into doing so. Although I'm alright, it scared Honora when I failed and collapsed to the ground.

Since I couldn't manipulate and redirect Honora's attack safely, I had to eat the hit to protect her and the surrounding area. Manuela gave me a clean bill of health, but she said it would be sore for at least a week. Manuela made a huge understatement. It really hurt for one week and was sore the next.

"Okay Artorias, do you remember how to do a basic heal?"

"I do."

Honora holds out her hands. I close my eyes and try to focus, "Breath enters our body." Honora says.

I focus on the key words and move my thoughts and mana through my body. Immediately, my palms start to sweat as if I am trying to summon a fireball or some other black spell, but I fight off the urge and focus on what keeps me calm.

"As the breath enters our body, it becomes mana. The mana extends pass our fingers and becomes medicine." Honora says.

The mana tries to convert my black arcane over to white, but it stalls for some reason. Negativity floods into my mind, and I can feel myself losing sight of our training.

"Focus Artorias. You did it by yourself last time, you can do it again." Honora says.

Was it actual skill or luck? I question within my head. The only reason I was able to do it last time was because Honora was suppressing my dark mana for the first hour. Smoke feels like it's radiating from the palms of my gauntlets. I let out a sigh and shake my head. I can't do it. I can't do it. If I can't covert it, then it's just going to hurt whoever I try to apply the magic to.

Honora takes a hold of my hands and flips my palms back up, "Listen to me, you can do it. Now close your eyes, match my breathing and focus."

I take another deep breath and close my eyes again. Honora presses her thumb into the palms of my gauntlet as the mana channels back to my hands, "Breath enters our body, as the breath enters our body, it becomes mana. The mana extends pass our fingers and becomes medicine."

"Breath enters our body, as the breath enters our body, it becomes mana. The mana extends pass our fingers and becomes medicine." I repeat after her.

The heat in my hand dies down a little, but my body flares up significantly. "It's okay Artorias. It's okay. The warmth you are feeling means you are doing it right. This next step is the most important. I want you to close your hands. Don't question or even consider what could possibly happen. Just do it."

I fold my hands without hesitating. The intense heat deep in my body flows from me and through my fingertips. Suddenly, I can feel the warmth leaving me. Honora softly giggles and lets my hand go.

"You've improved since the last time we met. You didn't even need as much help this time."

"Yeah, but I still got a long way to go." I reply as I try to repeat the process by myself.

"You will get there. You mastered black magic very quickly."

"Yeah, but white magic brings healing and life. Whereas black magic only causes destruction and agony." I reply as I focus and try to replicate what I did a couple seconds ago.

The mana from my body flows into my palms and attempts to filter itself into white magic, but I struggle to get passed that part. The more I think about it, the more I begin to lose focus. So I cancel the spell, take a deep breath and try again. However, Honora has a sad look on her face. Almost like something I said upset her. I don't know what though. I was just pointing out that I learned black magic fairly fast because it fits what I am. A weapon.

"Artorias?"

"Yes Honora?"

"Why do you have such a negative outlook on life? You always talk like your heart is made of stone. Death, and destruction."

"It's just the way I was raised."

"But that's not you."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Nothing. Nothing. I was just thinking out loud. Let's get back to training."

Honora holds up her hand. A green healing sigil forms within her palm as she touches my shoulder. A rush of warm relief travels through my arm and causes the tense muscles to relax completely. Even though I'm not suffering from an injury of any sort, that actually felt nice.

"Now you try." Honora replies.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and channel mana back into my hands. As the smoke begins to form, I clear my mind, and remember the sigil she just made. The mana flows back into my body, and I immediately touch Honora on her hand the moment my body heats up. The energy transfers over to her. I open my eyes and see that Honora is still okay. Her hand hasn't suffered any kind of damage. Nor is she in pain.

"Well done Artorias! You can officially heal people with minor injuries!"

"And it only took me eight months."

I let out a sigh of relief. Although I stayed positive, it felt like I was going to end up burning her. The last time I did this alone, a negative thought cross my mind, and I lost focus the moment I touched her. Although Honora yanked away, she wasn't hurt. My hand was just too hot, and she said that my inability to believe in myself is what could have gotten her hurt.

If I wouldn't have seen that sigil, then I doubt I would have been able to cast this on my own. However, I still don't feel confident in casting white magic due to my struggle to convert. More training will be required before I can cast the basic heal in an actual battlefield.

"Thank you for your teaching Honora."

"You are welcome Artorias." She reaches into a small satchel and digs around.

"Well I'll see you later." I state as I take off as quickly as I can.

"Artorias, get back here!" Honora states as she holds out some gold coins.

"Honora, I'm not accepting money that doesn't belong to me." I reply as I start down the stairs.

"This does belong to you because you are my student! Now get back here!"

"Hold onto it for me. That way it can have some interest built up next time." I chuckle at the bottom of the sanctuary stairs.

"Fine then. I'll give it to you next time." Honora states.

We wave each other goodbye and I head to the market. Honora's day must not be over yet. Otherwise I would walk her to her room. Hopefully she doesn't get in trouble. Even though it was about as eventful as last time, I'm very grateful she is taking time out of her schedule to teach me something.

I approach the vendor I gave the commission slip to. Right now, he is loading the last of the stuff into the baskets, so there isn't anything left to do but wait. I causally wonder around and observe the vendors from a distance. Standing over by the blacksmith is Byleth. Just like me, he's just looking for something to buy in the future.

"Instructor." I say as I walk up beside him.

"Artorias. What are you doing here?"

"I'm collecting my commission for this week."

"Commission?"

"Supplies rather than money."

"I see. I know that when dad and I were stationed up in Fodlan's locket, the locals paid us in food because they didn't have much money."

"What were you doing up there?" I ask as the both of us causally prowl around the shops.

"Mercenary work. Since it's located close to Almyra, they have an issue with invaders and bandits. So dad and I went up there to help repel the attacks."

"I've been to Almyra a couple times. Not very fond of it." I reply as we make our way to the vendor with my commission.

"Alright. Everything is here." He says as he puts two baskets up on the counter.

"Thank you."

"Would you like some help with them?" Byleth asks.

"Yeah. Sure. I live up in the mountains though."

"That won't be a problem." Byleth replies as he picks up a basket. I pick the other up, and the both of us exit the front gate.

"How do you feel about tomorrow?"

"I think you can do it. I'm sure if you apply what you've learned about mercenary work, then everything ought to run smoothly." I state.

Byleth and I make our way onto the path leading up to my house and continue onward. The mountain's incline starts to get steeper the closer we get to my house, but Byleth isn't falling behind despite the changes in altitude. This guy must really be the real deal if he can keep up in high altitude. It's one of the reason's I live up here because it makes training significantly harder.

"Can I offer you some water Byleth?" I ask as we reach the porch of my house.

"I'll take some."

I open the door to my house and set the basket off in the corner of the room. Byleth places his basket next to mine while I grab a pale and head to the stream. Water floods into the cavity and tries to suck the chunk of wood out of my hand as it completely submerges under the surface. Hot water sloshes over the sides and splashes against the moist ground as I yank it out and carry it back to the house. Byleth is scraping some filaments off a magnesium block onto some dry tinder while I walk in.

"Thank you Byleth."

"You're welcome."

I pour the water into a pot and hang it above the spit while Byleth strikes the flint a couple times. He bends down and gives one swift blow and the entire thing catches. I put a couple twigs on top while Byleth stacks some more dry grass. The fire slowly grows stable enough for a log.

"So Artorias, we were talking about Almyra. What were you doing there?"

"Well this was a long time ago, but mother and I were nomads. We didn't really have a place to call home, so we went place to place looking for work."

"So your mother was a mercenary?"

"More like an assassin. When I was younger, I would work in the taverns for a couple days until she finished her contract." I pull my tobacco out from earlier, light the end and puff a couple times.

"Was she the one that thought you how to use a sword?"

"Swords, black magic and surprise elements. What about you? Did Jeralt teach you how to fight?"

"He did. When I was a kid, he used to take me out before dawn, and we would train with wooden sticks. That was before I was old enough to go out with him on missions."

"There was nothing more terrifying than the possibility they weren't coming back. It upset me when mother would go out on contracts because I was worried she would never come back."

"Exactly. Which I had some people in our group that was willing to raise me if something did happen to dad."

"I would have been stuck working as a tavern maid if she wouldn't have come back." I state as I grab the boiling pot of water and pour us both a tankard.

"A fate worse than death." Byleth states.

"Absolutely. Although watching the fist fights erupt out of nowhere was fun."

"There was one time dad and his pals took me to a tavern. I was just sitting there, trying to enjoy myself, and this guy walks up and tells me to get out of his seat. Dad didn't say nothing. He just stood up and hit the man in the face with his tankard. Hit the guy so hard that it shattered to pieces."  
"I can see ole Jeralt doing something like that." I chuckle as I take a puff on the cigarette, breathe out and flick the ash off into the fire.

"Mom used to hustle people at knives in her spare time. Well one day, I was working behind the counter, and this guy she beat accused her of cheating. Well mom didn't like that one bit. So she grabbed him by the wrist, threw him over her shoulder and then pinned his cape to the floorboard with the knife she beat him with."

"Sounds like your mom didn't take kindly to lies."

"That she didn't. Those were good times." I reply as I take another puff and toss the tobacco stump into the fire.

Byleth finishes his water and sets his tankard over with the other dirty ones. I pour some of my water over an apple and give it a quick scrub with some of the lye soap. The suds bubble up and drip down onto the floor with the steaming water.

"Would you like some?" I offer.

"No thank you. I ate a little earlier." Byleth declines.

"You sure? It's a long walk back."

"I'll be okay."

I nod and sink my teeth into the crisp red flesh. The ground mash releases a weak sugar taste as it mixes around my mouth. It's sweet enough that it actually has a flavor. In fact, this is probably the best apple I've had in a while. I take out my dagger from the compartment in my gauntlet and pry the seeds out of the core before tossing it into the fire.

"I'm about to head back to the dorms. I'll see you tomorrow. Byleth says.

"Alright. I'll see you out on the field. Wait, you do know where that is?"

"Yeah, this guy named Setith showed me where it was."

"Alright. You have a good night."

"Good night Artorias." Byleth replies.

We head out the front door at the same time. Byleth gets on to the path leading back to the church while I look for a place to plant the seeds. There are a lot of places to pick from, but it would be nice if they could be close to the house. That way in five or six years, I wouldn't have to walk a great distance, and there would always be a constant supply of food for me, and my guests during the harvests.

I place one seed in a patch of dirt that's deep enough the birds can't get to it. Several paces away, I place the other one. This time, it's in a shallower patch. The last seed, I toss onto the ground. There's no telling where it went, but that is for nature to decide. One for me, one for nature, and one for the earth.

I close my eyes and place my hands together, "As you have provided for me, I shall provide for you."

Since today was kind of uneventful, I'll just bathe tomorrow after the mock battle. I lock the front door, toss another long into the fire and pull my armor off. That Byleth fellow, he really is an eccentric person, but there is something special about him.

Although I've only been around him for two days, the man hardly shows any kind of emotion. Nor does he smile. A thought comes to my mind. Byleth said he wasn't sure if Jeralt was his true father. Maybe, just maybe Jeralt is. I've encountered a lot of different people in my life, and it wasn't uncommon to see people taking on different identifies to try and hide something.

Mother did it, and I do it. Everyone who had something to hide does. Although I don't know what Byleth is hiding, there is no reason to push around and ask. When the time comes, and he trusts me fully, he will tell me. Until then, all I can do is be a student and guardian…


	5. Chapter 4

The urge to wake up overcomes me. It's still dark out, but there is a dim glow of yellow beyond the trees. Although it maybe a little early, it wouldn't hurt to go on and get ready. I stand up and do a couple stretches to get the blood flowing.

There isn't any reason to wear armor or take any weapons since it's just a mock battle. They will be providing us training weapons. There will also be a barrier that will prevent white and black casters from using extremely powerful spells, prayers or blood arcane.

I put some clothes on and lace my boots. Most of the fighting will consist of wooden swords and spears. With a couple mages here and there. Since I'm still in the process of carving out a sword that resembles the one I carry, I'll just have to use black magic, and the combat arts I've learned and developed over my lifetime.

I stomp the fire out, lock my house up and head in the direction of the field. Rows of yellow eyes sparkle in the tree branches above, and the constant hooting of nocturnal creatures echo throughout the woods. Up ahead are the hills that separate the training field from the mountain. At one time, this place used to be home to countless wolves. Most people considered them a threat. To me, it was protection.

Now a pack of wolves would chase me just as they would anyone else, but it was also a deterrent. Before the church chased them all away, no one would even set foot up here. Which is why I loved it.

Many times, I'd go out to meditate and find shredded bodies of marauders trying to encroach on the church's territory. There was even a time I could leave the door unlocked at night because the wolves would set up around my stream, and leave before I would wake up, but once the wolves were ran off, there's been a lot more bandits skulking around.

I scale up a nearby tree and use the branches to press forward. Since I don't have any weapons other than magic, I don't want to stumble upon someone without a torch, or a wild animal and end up burning the entire forest down.

The black canopy above offers enough protection from the faint, orange light of the sun. I shift my weight back the moment my boot touches the branch to prevent any leaves from falling and to reduce the direct impact to the branch. If it sways too much, I won't be able to get off quickly and efficiently. The branch swoops down far enough that the momentum carries me to the next tree over.

The valley where the training grounds isn't far off. Down at the mouth of the valley, I can see the class preparing. On the distant ridge, Byleth is standing next to Jeralt along with Honora. It appears he is giving Byleth some oversight on the ensuing battle. As for Honora, she is more than likely going to be the suppressor. Which is a good thing, because I'm not going to hold back on the black magic. Even if it is a mock battle.

"Artorias! You are here! Welcome!" Honora says with an honorable bow.

"The pleasure is mine."

"So you're the sword saint?"

"And you must be blade breaker."

Jeralt and I grab each other's forearm and give a tight squeeze. It's clear he's the stronger one, so I let up and our grips detach. "It's good to have you."

"And it's good to be here." Jeralt states. "I will be overseeing the battle and offering advice since Byleth will be leading all of you."

"Consider his will done."

"Right then! Let's get to it!" Jeralt shouts as he claps his hands and motions for me and Byleth to join our class.

"Do your best Artorias!" Honora cheers.

The both of us find a suitable slope and jump. My feet hit the erosion, and the dirt rolls and gives way. I quickly regain my balance, brace my knees and take appropriate steps as the slide takes me down. Byleth is sliding right beside me.

"Impressive Byleth. Not many people can slide down a hill without face planting." I state as we make our way to the weapon cart.

"Well you learn a thing or two out in the field."

Most of the weapons have already been taken. All that's really left is a shield and sword. Since it's shaped like a traditional sword from Fodlan, I won't be using it. Byleth picks up the sword and the wooden kite shield. "Here, take the shield."

"I'm good." I reply.

"I'll manage with a sword. You need something to protect yourself."

"No really, I'm fine." I reply as I try to get out of the deal.

"Hey teach, want to know a fun fact? Artorias doesn't know how to use a shield." Claude states as he twirls a wooden arrow around with his fingers.

"Are you telling me the sword saint can't even use one of the most basic objects of defense?" Lorenz teases.

"The title is master swordsman. Not shield wielder." I reply.

The conversation catches everyone's attention. Everyone tries to hide the fact they are laughing at me, but it's perfectly fine. Although it doesn't help ease the shame I feel. When mother taught me how to fight, she said, "your sword is your shield. If it isn't, then you have no business picking one up."

Both hands always went on the sword. Regardless of the situation. Shields were seen as a hinderance to mobility and posture. One hand could deliver strength or balance, but never both. Whereas both hands in unison acted as strength and balance.

"You're from Fodlan, and you don't know how to use a shield?" Byleth asks.

"That's right." I say with as much shattered pride as I can.

"Well I guess that's something we will have to remedy." Byleth states as he pats my shoulder in a friendly manner. "Alright! Listen up! Take care of one another, and they will take care of you! Good luck out there Artorias."

"I won't let you down Master."

"You better not. If you do, then I'll have no choice but to steal your tobacco." Claude teases.

"If you want to lose a finger or two, go right ahead."

Claude and I chuckle as everyone gets into formation. Lorenz gets in front of Lysithea and Marianne while I bring up the back. Raphael, Leonie and Ignatz form up behind us. Hilda joins in with me and Lorenz.

"So glad you decided to join us!" Lorenz says.

"Well I reckon you boys needed some kind of moral support." Hilda states as she throws a huge slab of wood that barely passes for an axe over her shoulder.

I don't really remember Byleth giving her an assigned position, but then again, he said he would be evaluating and making arrangements. I take a deep breath and exhale, "Slow and patient, slow and patient."

"Let the battle begin!" Jeralt yells at the top of his lungs.

Honora places her hands together. Countless gold chains rain down from the sky. They intertwine and tighten to the point they form a cage around the area. Immediately, my mana is being suppressed to the point that it feels like I don't have any. The chains disappear from the environment, but their presence is still here.

"Hey Artorias! Try to cast!" Lorenz states.

I draw some mana and form it within my hand. The orb spits out a flickering flame as it tries to grow into what I normally cast. Despite me putting everything I have into making a huge fireball, it can't grow any bigger than a toy ball.

Lysithea tries to cast some kind of purple spell, but it can't grow any bigger than my fireball. Lorenz takes a deep breath and summons a ball of water. Just like the spell Lysithea and I casted, it can't grow into what it could be.

"Our mana really is suppressed to the point of being useless." Lysithea states.

"Well I guess all of you are going to have to depend on me for protection." Lorenz teases.

"If that's the case, we're all goners." Lysithea replies.

"Hey, what about you? Can you cast something?" I ask Marianne.

"I don't know…"  
"You know what, don't worry about it. As long as you can do a basic heal, we'll be fine. Just be sure to not roast one of us when you're converting."

"So you do know a little about white magic." Lysithea states.

"Enough to really hurt someone."

"Then let's protect Marianne with our lives. I certainly don't want Artorias trying to heal me." Lorenz pokes.

"For the one and only time in my life, I agree."

Byleth and Claude come to a stop. Lorenz holds up his hand and everyone stops and stands at attention. Byleth makes a motion with his hand. Hilda moves up while Lorenz and I remain ready. Claude notches a wooden arrow and takes aim at a tree to our left.

Another arrow flies directly towards Byleth. Claude quickly changes course and shoots that arrow down. He spins around, notches another arrow and fires back. This girl with purple hair jumps to the side and returns fire. Claude engages with the girl while Byleth jerks his shield to the left.

The sound of wood splintering rips through the field as he deflects an incoming attack from an axe. Byleth counter swings and Edelgard leaps out of range. It hasn't been declared yet, but the battle has just begun. Hubert rushes out from behind a tree to assist Edelgard.

Hilda lunges forward and slings her chunk of wood at him. He swats the attack away and tosses a small fireball at her. Hilda rams the tip of the axe into the ground and eats the hit. The axe completely deflects all the fire, and a huge cloud of smoke engulfs them.

I channel some mana to my hand, form a fireball and chunk it directly behind Leonie and them. The impact from the fire ignites a tree. Everyone in our group turns their attention to the back where some more attackers are coming from. There was no way they wouldn't try and go for the rear guard as well as our lead. They're trying to surround us.

Ignatz notches an arrow and releases. His arrow is cut out of the air by this boy with black hair. He's even got it tied up into a wolf tail. Ignatz spins around. His momentum causes his thigh quiver to launch an arrow up into the air. He snags it out of the air, notches it and fires again before retreating back for another shot. The arrow manages to clip one of our attackers in the shoulder, but it isn't enough for a knockdown or a disarm.

Leonie and this boy with red hair slam their spears together and thrust at one another to try and force the other to make a wrong move. Ingrid charges past Leonie and jabs Raphael right in the chest.

"You're going to need a bigger weapon than that!" Raphael chuckles as he puts his hands on his hips.

He spins around and unleashes a huge sweeping kick towards Ingrid. She ducks the attack and holds the spear in front of her as Raphael's fist connects with the shaft. The weapon snaps clean in half as Ingrid staggers back. Raphael backs off and reassess the situation since Ingrid has two weapons now. As they reengage, Dimitri and the boy with the wolf tail come rushing towards me and Lorenz.

"Ah Prince Dimitri! I was wondering when our paths would cross!" Lorenz states as he twirls his spear around in the air and swipes at our attackers.

The boy with the black wolf tail rushes directly at me and swings his sword. I bat the attack down and toss a fireball at him. He sidesteps and brings his sword in. He takes a step forward and lunges the weapon forward. I dash forward, lift my leg up and stomp the tip into the dirt. The boy loses his balance, but he shifts around and yanks the sword back.

"So you're the swordsman that can stomp any thrust attack." The boy states.

"No, that was just luck." I reply.

"Luck didn't drive my sword into the ground."

"Yes it did."

"Enough fooling around. You're unarmed and won't be able to keep up with someone like me. So step to the side."

He charges at me and unleashes a flurry of different swings and slashes. I weave in and out of the attacks while occasionally batting one off course to try and throw him off balance. The boy spins around. I leap up into the air the moment his sword makes a full circle and flip over him.

I tap him on the shoulder and jump back as the wooden sword barely misses my chest. His determination to hit me gets the better of him and he thrusts the sword at me again. I raise my leg and drive it down harder this time.

The combination of solid ground, and my boot causes the sword to crackle. Chunks of splintered wood shoot out and skid all over the place as he lifts the broken handle up and throws it at me. I grab a hold of it with my left hand. Fire erupts from my palm, and the hunk of wood turns into ash.

"Let us handle this Felix." I hear a familiar voice state.

Wait a second, I know that voice. Oh no... It's the man from the seminars. I can already hear it, and he hasn't even said the word yet. The reason I take the punishment for skipping seminars when he begins talking about crests rather than black magic. It's the one and only.

"Hanneman, and misses Manuela." I say as they both approach us.

"Hello Artorias! You look rather nice today!" Manuela states.

"And you look as ravishing as ever." I reply.

"Oh Artrorias, you know just what to say to make a woman blush! After this, I might just patch your injuries up for free!" Manuela states as she grabs her grinning face.

"If there's going to be any injuries, it's going to be on you." Lysithea states as she stands by my side.

The only one that isn't fighting is Marianne, but that's okay. Our job is to protect her since she's the only healer. Lysithea pulls off her white gloves and stuffs them in her black uniform. She takes a deep breath and starts pooling mana into her arms and hands. Manuela and Hanneman ready themselves as I take a deep breath and get into a fighting position.

"Artorias, what is your grimoire?"

"Fire, lighting and blood arcane are my strongest, but I can use the basic versions of all the grimoires. What about you?"

"Dark. Your blood arcane is out of the question for this battle, but I have an idea. I know you're a pretty independent person, but we will both stand a better chance if we work together."

"Do you think you can pull it off?" I ask.

"I know I can."

"Then I'm all ears."

"Manuela is a white caster, so the only offensive spell she will be able to use is Nosferateu. Hanneman will have all your skills. So you two are on equal terms. Unless you know thoron."

"I know thoron."

"Good. I'll deal with Manuela. Once she's down, let Hanneman get a few good hits in. Once he gets overconfident, I'll throw up a wall. He won't be able to resist the urge to pursue and when he tries to climb over, blast him."

Lysithea forms a miasma ball and chunks it at Manuela. White orbs form within her hands as Manuela catches the purple ball and throws it back. The back of my leg snags the spell and knocks it off course as Lysithea and I rush forward.

Manuela comes directly at me. Lysithea throws another dark ball at her and draws the attention off me as I head directly towards Hanneman. Mana floods into my legs again as the next attack propulses me up into the air. Gravity pulls at the orange whip and stretches it out. I flip forward and drive my leg down. The heel of my boot causes the rock below to crack, and a normal size flame slams down.

Hanneman holds his hands up, and a geyser of air bursts through. He immerges from the other side, scoops up some of the leftover fire and throws it back at me. I jump to the side, bring my arms up and throw the incoming fireballs off course. At the rate he's throwing them at me, throwing them back isn't an option.

Hanneman throws his last fireball and puts his hands on his hips, "Well, I wasn't expecting this from someone as young as you."

"I'd say I'm still a little rusty since we last participated in a mock battle." I reply as I give a small glace over at Lysithea. Right now, she's got Manuela sweating, but Manuela isn't going down without a fight.

"Oh Artorias. Always trying to strive for more than possibly warranted."

Hanneman crosses his arms over his body and unleashes an air slice that forms an X. I leap up into the air and jump between the opening where the air crosses. Mana fills my leg again. I spin around and drive my heel into the ground. The earth sinks up to the sole of my boot. Magic flows from my body into the ground, and a tremor rips underneath the surface.

The ground in front of Hanneman bursts open. I ram my fist into the tunnel, and a stream of liquid fire travels through the split in the fault. Hanneman jumps up and casts another spell. The steam from the attack launches him up into the air as the fire from below barely misses him.

Hanneman dips down again, grabs another handful of my fire and runs it over his arm. He descends towards me with an outstretched fist. I leap up into the air and drive my elbow into his knuckles. The fire from both of our attacks completely cancel one another out, and a thick cloud of smoke wraps around us.

The both of us push back and forth, trying to decide whether or not to attack, or defend. Either way, neither of us can use our spells until we break apart since we are negating each other's flame attack. I try to get the upper hand, but Hanneman let's up and I stumble forward. Hanneman throws a punch and nicks me across the face.

I use that momentum to spin myself around and throw a kick with my right leg. Hanneman grabs a hold of my boot and traps my leg against his chest. I quickly readjust and throw my other leg up. Hanneman ducks and my foot hits the ground. My balance comes back, and I drive my free leg into his chest.

A huge gust of air from Hanneman's hand shoves me down, and I skid across the rocky ground. The sound of something crackling under the force of fire gets louder and louder. A huge wave of heat hits me in the back and throws me back against the ground. Another ball hits me, then another. The fire is doing nothing to me, but it's annoying because it keeps knocking me down every time I get halfway up.

I glance over at Lysithea while Hanneman has the upper hand. Her and Manuela are locked up in a test of strength. Lysithea throws Manuela off balance and blasts her with a miasma ball. Weak, acidic fluid splashes all over Manuela. The color of her beautiful teal dress starts to lose its color, and the orange straps that secure it to her body loosen up. A wolf whistle howls out of nowhere, and Manuela's face turns cherry red.

"Well, I wasn't expecting a trip to the tailor shop. You win this time Lysithea." Manuela states with a huge smile as she tries to cover the front of her body. Even though it didn't destroy the dress completely, she won't be able to continue. Unless she wants all the boys drooling. I take advantage of the situation and jump to my feet.

"Running won't save you!" Hanneman yells.

I peek over my shoulder to see if Hanneman is going to try and shoot me in the back. He summons a fireball in his left hand, and a gust of wind in his right. He crosses them over his body and moves his arms in a horizontal manner. The air sweeps the fire out of his hand and forms a huge wave infused with blazing blue heat.

I leap up, and the huge wave of fire flows right under me. Lysithea sticks her hands into the ground. The earth shatters around her, and she pulls up a pile of broken rocks big enough to take cover behind.

I scale up the pile of rocks and bale off to the other side with Lysithea. Another fireball hits the top of the rock pile and sends chunks of charred rock flying toward us. Lysithea covers her eyes and ducks down as I hit the dirt and cover up. A couple hot shards of stone pelt against my back and break the surface of my skin.

"Alright Artorias, do your thing." Lysithea says as she shakes me.

I hop to my feet, take a deep breath and channel as much mana as possible. Orange sparks emit from my hands as it tries to take form, but it's not ready to cast yet. The fire is sucked back in, and the mana converts and swells under the skin. I rotate my arms around in a circle and take aim.

Hanneman leaps on top of the rock pile. I take aim at his feet and release. Boiling plasma jets out of my fingertips. The blue fluid supercharges itself in the atmosphere and turns into a narrow bolt of lightning. Hanneman leaps up as the bolt hits the tip of the pile. The screaming rage of thunder sends off a concussive blast that tosses up a huge cloud of dust. Chunks of earth strike me all over the body as Lysithea shields her eyes.

The wave sends Hanneman further up into the air. He is struggling to regain his balance as he hits the peak of his ascension. Guilt fills my soul as he falls back. Maybe that was a little too much. Hopefully the old man isn't hurt.

I take off in his direction and try to find where he's going to land. Hanneman throws his weight around, tosses a gust of wind underneath him and rapidly slows his decent. He lands on the ravine above and rolls to negate some of the excess fall momentum.

"Well done Artorias! Your skills have drastically improved since our last engagement!"

"You taught me well."

Hanneman straightens his monocle and signals that he is done. Jeralt gives the knight holding the blue lions flag the motion, and he lowers it halfway. Right now, the golden deer's is the only one that's still flying high. Which means our house leader and instructor are still in the battle.

The black eagles have been completely removed. Which means Byleth has defeated Edelgard. Shame. I was really wanting to watch them two, but I guess that means I'll have to settle for Lorenz and Dimitri.

I quickly run up the side of the cliff and grab the edge. Hanneman reaches out with an outstretched hand and pulls me up, "I would have kicked you off if we were still in battle."

"And I would have climbed up myself if we were." I poke back.

The both of us sit down on the edge and look the entire battlefield over. Claude, Byleth and Hilda are making their way back to the rear guard. Leonie and the red headed boy are still going at it. Along with Ignatz. Right now, he's trying to help Leonie, but he can't get a clear shot because Leonie, and the red head keep sidestepping.

Raphael is still fighting with Ingrid too. She can't really do anything to him, so she's trying to wear him down. Although I don't think that's really working since Raphael is relentlessly pursing Ingrid.

As for Lorenz and Dimitri, they seem pretty even. Although I'm sure the fight is almost over. Lysithea is resting up against a wall as Marianne tends to some of the injured. She is trying to administer any kind of healing she can to the people from the other houses.

"Looks like I got you pretty good." Hanneman states as he points to a section on my back.

I can't see it, but since he just mentioned it, I can feel blood slowly trickling out of a wound. Doesn't feel serious, so I'll wait until this is over to check it.

"Well at least you hurt my feelings." I reply.

The both of us chuckle as Byleth and his house finally reinforce Lorenz and the others. Byleth smacks Dimitri in his arm with his training sword while Lysithea, and the others help Leonie and Raphael overcome Ingrid, and the red head.

"Well I suppose that's checkmate. Would you care for Manuela's aid?"

"I'll go see Honora instead."

"What's the matter? I thought Manuela was the best healer at Gerrag Mach?"

"I don't feel like walking to the infirmary. Honora can just heal me in my house."

"Manuela can too!"

"Rule number one, never show a woman the inside of your house." I reply.

"Unless that woman happens to be Honora."

"There are exceptions to that rule."

The both of us laugh as I skid down the rockface. Nothing personal against Manuela, but she is on the crazy side. She's all the time looking for dates, and although she is a sweet, attractive woman, she doesn't really fit my taste. Plus she's a lot older than me. Easily ten years or more.

Everyone is congratulating and praising one another as I approach the group. Hopefully there will be some kind of victory celebration so I can dismiss myself and go home. That's if Byleth doesn't make me stay.

"You did a fantastic job there teach." Claude says.

"I have to admit, your skill was quite masterful." Lorenz adds.

"I couldn't have done it without y'all." Byleth replies.

"Let's head back to the monastery and celebrate! The kitchen lent me some nice, aged cheddar for the occasion!" Claude adds.

"If I am allowed to make a request, I'd like to go home." I state before everyone gets too far ahead of themselves.

"What for?" Byleth asks.

"I'm not the celebrating type."  
"Oh come on! The way you held your own against Hanneman deserves some kind of compensation!" Claude states.

"Thank you, but I would like to go home. Unless Byleth has a task for me."

"If you want to go home, then I'll grant you that request. Claude and I will be by in the morning to inform you of our next assignment."

"Thank you Master."

I keep an eye out for Honora, but she is nowhere in sight. She probably went back to the monastery. Oh well. I'll patch myself up.

I unlock the front door of my house, head inside and gather up some clothes and a towel. It's been a day or so since the last bath, so it's time to clean up. I head out to the river and draw a bucket of warm water. The sticky gunk on my back pops as my shirt comes off. A decently sized hole from where a stone ripped through the shirt has a streak of blood dripping down the middle.

I reach around, pull the chunk out of my back and toss it into the woods. A slight sting runs all the way down my spine as the soap oozes over the wound. I give my hands, and the rest of my body a quick scrub and rinse the suds off. Since there is a possibility the wound could still be bleeding, there's no reason to go sit in the river.

I dump the soapy water out of the pail, rinse it and draw some fresh water. There should be enough to last me until tomorrow morning. I put my clothes on and head back to the house. Since there is at least half a day left, the time will be used to polish my armor.

I set the pail on the spit, rearrange the fire logs where the charred side is facing down and toss a small fireball into the fireplace. The wood catches immediately as the ball of fire slowly eats down to the black below.

I dip a towel into some oil and gloss over the metallic parts of my chest plate, leggings and gauntlets. The dark liquid seeps into the dull metal and brings out its lustrous glow again. Chances are I'll have to throw mud and leaves back on it come the next major assignment, but at least it will make me look presentable for now.

The metal squeaks from cleanliness as I toss the oily rag into the fire and put my armor up. Since Byleth and his house led us to victory, a celebration meal should be in place. I grab some bread, and the honey. The syrup drizzles down and covers most of the crispy bread. A layer of gold mixes with the sprinkled salt and rolls over the edges into my hand.

I bite down and break a huge section off. Sweetness from the honey mixes with salt and infuses the bitter bread with a delicious taste that tingles my mouth. Most people hate the flavor of unleavened bread, but it's all I've ever really had. Come to think of it, I don't really remember the last time I've had real bread. It couldn't taste any better than this since it's made of the same thing.

I finish my piece of sweet bread and chase it down with some cooled water. Byleth said he'd be by tomorrow to inform me of our next assignment. Since he's proved himself a capable leader, I wonder what his first job is going to be. Hopefully something easy, like patrolling a town with the knights, or some kind of simple recon.

Not that Byleth can't take care of himself, but I worry for his students. They may possess crests and basic training, but they're still kids and beating up on someone in a controlled environment is a lot different than in a field with no rules. Experience and skill are what dictates whether someone lives or dies.

Actual combat is very unforgiving, and mistakes are always met with death. Trouble fills my mind, but I try to push it to the back of my mind. Byleth can do this. He knows what he's doing, and it's irresponsible of me to question him. Although doubt still clogs my mind.

Maybe tomorrow, I'll go meditate. That should soothe my troubled heart. I don't know when Byleth is coming, but I reckon it will be after sunrise, so I'll leave at dawn and try to be back before he arrives. If not, then Claude will show him my area of study.

I reach under my bed and pull out mother's book. Everything she ever learned has been recorded in here. From personal experiences and wisdom to weapon techniques with drawings, there's always something that takes my mind off the world.

I flip the red leather cover open and zip through the pages. There's more than likely some embarrassing stories in here, but thankfully, it's in her native language. I flip to a page that catches my attention. It's dated for nearly twenty years ago:

_"__When I'm in a bad mood, Artorias tends to avoid me. Especially when he's the reason I'm mad. Nobody can make me angry as fast as that boy, but at the same time, nobody has really ever made me happier. Today, I sent Artorias to go fetch some water from the river while I set up camp close by. _

_I clearly told him to come straight back because of the dangerous area we were traveling through. Some time passed, and I began to get concerned. He's not my son, but still, he's a vulnerable kid, and we are in a part of the Adrestian Empire that was notorious for highwayman and bandits._

_As I went out to look for him, Artorias was playing in the river. He made me so mad that I yelled. Artorias began to shrivel up and cry. Although he's still young, Artorias knew I was angry for a good reason. Like always, he would sit on the other side of the camp and try to hide. Which was a good thing, because I wanted to slap him upside the head._

_After we finished dinner, he walked over and hugged me. Before I could recuperate, he pulled at my arm and uttered "come." Halfway to the river, Artorias pointed to the left and took off towards a field of golden sunflowers that had just bloomed. Before I could follow, Artorias handed me one and said, 'I'm sorry momma.' _

_The boy caused me to choke, but I swallowed my emotions and said 'thank you.' Then we proceeded to get out of there because it was the backyard of some noble. The boy has a huge heart, and I really hope I can find a family for him so that love can continue to grow._

I smile as I flip to the next page and read another entry, "I love you too momma…"


	6. Chapter 5

The sound of something hitting the floor catches my attention. I jerk from the anticipation and reach for the knife underneath my mattress. Nothing is trying to get me. Nor is there some kind of black beast trying to devour me.

Energy from the anticipation dwells down, and I replace the knife under the mattress. The last thing I was reading about was the various types of monsters across Fodlan. The one that caught my attention was the black beast, and since I fell asleep reading, my dreams were about that creature.

Except this one was unlike all the others. The monster wasn't created from corruption, but was the source. I was only a child, but everywhere I looked, there were rivers of flaming blood. I was looking for my family, but they were nowhere to be found. The sight of death and destruction never ended, and before the answer was revealed to me, the dream ended.

My head aches from the memory as I try and remember what really happened that day. The memory recreates my attempts to push through a burning building because father and uncle were on the other side, but no matter how hard I try, my memory can't push beyond that point.

Best not to dwell on it. When the time comes, the memory will be restored. For the time being, it's time to focus on meditation. I pick up mother's book and flip through to find something to practice. A technique called bladestorm catches my attention. I know how to do it already, but since it's incredibly hard to pull off without proper timing and spacing, bladestorm will be the pinnacle of my attention.

I snuff the fire, grab my sword and head out to the training ground. The sun peeks out from the darkness and casts a handful of glow over some hills far off in the distance. My eyes readjust, and I follow the calm river.

The land comes to an abrupt stop. Water flowing from the river plummets straight down and continues rolling peacefully throughout the country side. I drop down the small ravine and find a place far away from any surrounding trees.

Since bladestorm consists of one swipe from the sheathe, a hail of following slashes and one final dash. I channel some mana into my right arm. Wind isn't my strongest grimoire so the attack isn't going to be much for now.

I place my hand on the sword, take a deep breath and get into a firm stance. The blade glides out of the sheathe and leaves a silver flash that trails behind the black steel. Mana floods into the blade as I bring it back and kneel. The mana swells up in the air as it waits for an activation catalyst.

The guard hits the sheathe with a loud click, and I release the energy in my body. Metallic glint slices through the air, and a storm of invisible slashes surround the area in front of me. The force from the air being slashed generates enough energy that it's ripping tree leaves down and cutting them up. Which means I did not do it right. Despite this failure, I'm still going through with it.

A narrow path opens up between the turrets of razor-sharp wind. I dash through and unsheathe my sword. An incoming burst of air presses against the sword and alters the intended trajectory. Although it would still be more than enough to kill anyone, it's not good enough. The final slash needs be chest high. If it's below that, then it won't be enough to deliver a fatal strike.

I scold myself as I put the sword back in its sheathe and evaluate what went wrong. I know for a fact I used way too much mana. It was enough to pull the leaves down from the tree tops. More may mean better in some circumstances, but the actual storm phases out a lot quicker than one that's got balance. That's why the path opened up faster than it normally does. The added strength also pulled my sword off course during the final slash.

The question now is, what's the amount of mana to use? Too much causes the attack to dispel quicker and hinder the ability to properly follow up. Not enough isn't going to stagger someone wearing heavy armor.

I make my way over to the river and step in. The sudden chill of the shallow water sloshes over my feet and travels up my entire body. I take a deep breath and press on to the fall. Cold rains down from above and soaks my black hair. The urge to gasp from the shock tries to get the better of me, but I sit down on the rock directly below the water, fold my legs in and make the corresponding hand signs: "Rin…pyou…tou…sha…kai…jin…retsu…zai…zen."

Clarity fills my mind, and the thing weighing on my heart the most unravels before me. The scene of me preforming the bladestorm technique recreates itself. Still, there isn't any indication on how much mana should be used to initiate the actual storm itself.

"_What's the matter Artorias_?" Mother's voice asks.

"I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong."

"_Well it looks like you're using too much mana_."

"What is the right amount?"

Even though I can't see her, I can feel her physically touch my chest with her hand, "_it's not a matter of how much mana you use. What matters is where your heart is. Why are you trying to learn this technique_?"

"In the pursuit of strength and perfection."

"_Strength and perfection for what_?"

My mind slips and I come up with an empty response. Really, there isn't a particular reason. It just seemed like something I needed to improve on. Nobody knows this technique exists and getting hit with a swarm of invisible blades would certainly give me the edge over anyone.

"_There's no such thing as good intentions Artorias. You must have darkness in your heart. Therefore, Akumu fears you will use my teaching for evil_."

"Forgive me."

"_There's no need for forgiveness because you did nothing wrong, but you must find the source of darkness and dispel it before Akumu finds you worthy of this technique. You will know when you have Akumu's blessing_."

The physical form of my mother takes a place in my vision. She grasps the sword and walks over to where my spirit is recreating the bladestorm within my memory. Mother gently presses Akumu out of its sheathe and gets into position.

The blade slashes through the air and returns to its sheath in an instant. The bladestorm takes form, and a handful of additional slashes rotate in the air compared to mine. She dashes forward and delivers the final blow. Akumu perfectly slides between two swirls of whipping wind. The storm finally comes to an end and mother resheathes the sword and hands it back to me.

"I promise I will rid my soul of the malcontent."

Mother pats me on the shoulder and smiles as she fades away. Feeling slowly returns to my body, and the bitter cold of the water seeps into my skin. I slowly open my eyes and examine the area around me. The sun has bust through the dawn and brought morning. Off to the side, I can see Byleth and Claude whispering back and forth. The rest of the class are goofing off in the woods as I return to my feet. There's also that kid from yesterday. The one with the wolf tail in his hair. I wonder what he's doing here.

"Good morning Artorias." Claude says as he hands me a towel.

"Morning." I reply as I dry the water from my body off and scrub my hair.

"We took the liberty of bringing your belongings." Byleth states as he hands me my armor.

"What's the job?" I ask.

"Bandits."

"Where?"

"The red canyon." Byleth says.

I cinch up the armor and mount Akumu to my hip. The sword is spewing out red mist since Marianne is around, but I press it down with my thumb. To my knowledge, Marianne doesn't really have the prowess of a monster. The only time Akumu emits mist is when he detects a detestable soul, but that's not Marianne.

Claude takes my claymore and puts it in the scabbard on my back. "Try not to take my head off." I tease.

Claude firmly seats the claymore and gives it a gentle tug to the left and right, "I don't know, it seems stuck."

I place my hand on Claude and playfully push him back, "Get out of here!"

Claude cackles as I reach around and make sure the scabbard is probably seated and balanced, "Claude, I swear to Sothis if you put a stupid banner on my back…"

"I didn't do anything!" He tries to say with a straight face. Lorenz and Ignatz are trying to hold back laughter as my hand brushes over a piece of cloth.

"Goddamnit!" I yell as I yank some painted fabric off my back.

Everyone bursts out laughing as I bring the picture around and look at it. It bears a rough image of me riding on top of a green jaguar with my sword drawn. Despite the frustration I feel, this image is surprisingly nice to look at. Although jaguars aren't common around here, the amount of detail that went into this sketch is very impressive.

"Okay, I don't know who drew this, but it's actually good." I say as I fold the paper up and stick it in my side pouch. "Anyway, red canyon. Anything we should be aware of?"

"One of the students from the blue lions offered his services to our cause. Since this shouldn't be a very dangerous job, his house leader and I agreed to let him assist." Byleth says.

"Well if you and Dimitri gave him approval, he has mine." I state.

The boy and I approach one another and grab a hold of each other's forearm. Just by the look in his eyes, he's definitely a fighter. The kid has seen his fair share of fights.

"The name is Felix Hugo Fraldarius."

"Artorias."

"Ancestor?"

"I bear no last name or crest."

"Fair enough."

Byleth rounds everyone up. The students gather in the middle while Claude and Byleth lead the way. Zando, or the red canyon isn't very far away from the Garreg Mach. In fact, it's walking distance from my house. That's why it was important the wolves roamed these forests because nobody would dare go up to the red canyon alone. I form the rear guard with Felix, and we start our march. Since this isn't an actual battle, the formations are loose.

Lady Rhea probably sent the main fighting force up there to deal with the bandits, and we will be tasked with finishing off the stragglers. The knights of Serios aren't allowed to pilfer any spoils for themselves. That rule applies to Byleth's class as well, but Rhea isn't here. So how is she going to know if a student steals while my head is intentionally turned?

"Where are you from?" Felix asks.

"I was a nomad, but I was born in Faerghus."

"A fellow citizen! What part?"

"Rowe. I lived around the coastline. How about you?"

"Fraldarius."

The terrain around us starts to form an incline as we progress into the mountains. Lorenz places his hands on his knees and tries to take a deep breath. Some of the students are struggling to keep their breathing under control because of the altitude change.

Byleth motions for everyone to pause and rest. He doesn't seem to be having any problems. Then again, he probably lived in the mountains over long periods of time since he was a mercenary. Felix doesn't really seem bothered either. Which being from Faerghus, I wouldn't be surprised since it's a very mountainous area.

If the kids are suffering from altitude sickness, then hopefully the bandits will be as well. Otherwise, this could turn into a very bad situation very quickly. Byleth makes some adjustments to the formation. He moves Claude back to the middle and brings me up.

"Unless you know you can win the fight, don't start it. We don't need any of you passing out mid fight. Artorias, we are going to test the enemy's strength." Byleth says.

"Yes master."

Everyone catches their breath, and we progress further up the mountain. Smart move on his part. The after-action report would look a lot better if one of us got hurt compared to a student getting killed. If the bandits break easily, then I can keep an eye on the students and step in when they need help. With the knights rolling through combined with the high altitude, the bandits' morale shouldn't be high.

Ruins of a forgotten city take place in the distant hill tops. Stone foundations have been shattered, and wood charred black litter the area. Ancient bridges are barely held together with wooden lats and rope dangle precariously over seemingly, bottomless pits covered in thick fog.

Anyone with the nerve to screw around up here without Rhea's permission is begging for death. It may seem stupid, but it's sacred to her because it has something to do with the birth of some goddess, and Rhea deserves that at least.

Myth has it that this guy the goddess trusted turned this sprawling utopia into a husk of endless smoke and horror. Why? I don't know. Probably because like all men given power, he began to think of himself as God. The focus shifted from "_Thy_ _will_" to "_My_."

Honora loves telling me this story because it embodies the importance of faith in Sothis, and how she will return one day. Which to me, the story embodies the importance of never giving anything to anyone because they'll stab you in the back.

Byleth and I climb a set of stairs that lead to a massive courtyard connected by two bridges. One to the north and one to the west. Abandoned sleep mats, burning tents and several bodies from people dressed in leather armor are scattered all over the place.

"Wow. The church cut these guys down in their sleep." Claude whispers.

Byleth motions for me to keep watch over the class. He moves forward with his hand on the sheathe. I examine the courtyard and focus on the areas Byleth's eyes can't cover. He makes a motion to draw his sword but stops and takes a step back.

The sound of wooden crinkling under someone's weight comes from Byleth's left. This man is rushing across the bridge towards Byleth. He swings a blade covered in thick rust at him. Byleth catches the man's wrist and throws a huge left hook. His fist smacks the man in the face with enough force that I can see a tooth fly out. He hits the ground and rolls violently to the edge of the cliff side.

"These men are stragglers." Byleth says.

"Which means they must be coming back for something valuable." I add.

Another bandit pops out from under a collapsed tent and charges towards me, and the class. He comes from the right and slashes. I glide out of the way and avoid his follow up coming from the left. He brings the weapon in close to his hip and charges up. I lift my left leg up and stomp the metal into the ground.

The sword snaps in half as the man loses his balance and falls forward. I drive my right fist into his gut. Saliva sprays all on my shoulder plate. Distain and anger fills my heart as droplets of liquid laced with red streaks down the shiny metal plating, "You little crooked nosed churl… I just polished that!"

"Oh boy, now he's really pissed." Claude chuckles.

I drive my right knee into his chest. The man staggers backwards. My right leg rockets back from the recoil. I manipulate my left foot and use the force to spin myself around. The heel of my boot hits the man in the side of the neck. The bandit let's out a shriveled cry as he flies through the air and crashes into a barrel. Iron brackets and wood scatter all over the place.

"Okay class, as long as you stay close to us and keep your guard up, kill anyone you find." Byleth says as I cut a piece of leather off a dead bandit and douse water on my armor plate. It's one thing if I get it dirty myself the very next day, but for Sothis' sake, does it enrage me when someone dirties my armor after I polish it.

"You okay?" Hilda asks.

"Yeah. Just aggravated right now." I reply as I wipe the water off my polished armor and try to restore the shine.

"Here. Try this." Hilda reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small vial of sword polish. "It won't restore the original shine, but it will help."

"It's alright. I'll polish it up when I get home." I reply as I flip the leather over and wiped the water off.

"Leave it to Artorias to sit down while we do all the work." Lorenz tease as he deflects an incoming attack and runs his opponent through with a spear.

"Son, there'd be nothing left of this camp if my master let me off the leash." I reply as I pick a meat cleaver off the table.

The cleaver spins through the air and slices into the shoulder of a bandit rushing across the northern bridge. He swears out in agony as he drops his weapon and retreats. That bandit will live, but he'll certainly be out of battle. Once we kill all his buddies, he'll have no choice but to either die or surrender. Since it's Byleth's mission, he'll be the judge.

Claude notches an arrow and instructs Ignatz to do the same. The both of them draw back at the same time. Claude releases and quickly rushes behind Ignatz and tells him what adjustments to make. His arrow flies through the air and strikes a firepit. Ash scatters all over a nearby tent and causes smoke to bellow off the burning fabric.

"Release in three…two…"

Someone within the tent barges out the moment Claude says "one". Ignatz releases the arrow. The wooden arrow punches through the man's head and buries itself all the way up to the fletching. He touches his head a couple times and falls over. Claude applauds and praises his action, but Ignatz doesn't seem to be too moved.

Horror grips his heart, and his face shrivels up into sorrow as the man spasms out and dies. Ignatz clenches his bow to the point his knuckles turn white as he grinds his teeth. "I just…I feel sick…"

"Don't think too much about it." Raphael says as he puts his muscular arm around Ignatz shoulder and tries to comfort him.

The only people getting any real action is Leonie, Lorenz and that Felix kid. If I wasn't being told to sit down, then Byleth and I would be in the middle of it. Personally, I'm impressed. All that training really is paying off. Not to mention, these kids are cold blooded killers. Well most of them. The only ones avoiding conflict are Marianne and Ignatz.

Hilda drives her axe into the stomach of a bandit while Lysithea throws a ball of darkness at another. The ball explodes and knocks the man over the cliffside. Marianne comes over where I'm at and takes shelter behind the table. She covers her ears and constantly prays for protection and deliverance from this situation.

"Dear goddess, please make this bloodbath end."

I don't know what she's talking about. This is nothing compared to some of the stuff that goes on. This is a slow Wednesday during the winter. Which if she wants to be a healer, she'll have to get used to this. Because there isn't going to be time to bring someone with a severed arm to the camp while the battlefield rages.

Despite this, I feel for her. Killing is an awful thing, but it's the law of life. However, I have an idea to get her more involved without inciting violence.

"Hey Marianne."

"Yes."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"I don't know, I'd just get in the way…"

"You don't have to fight. I just want you to listen."

"I'll try."

"I'm not looking down on you for not fighting."

"But that's uncharacteristic for you." Marianne states.

"It doesn't mean I lack understanding. Everyone at Garreg Mach is taught that you aren't allowed to die an honorable death unless you kill twenty enemies or more, but let me share some wisdom, status shouldn't be dictated by who you kill, but those you save. Instead of killing twenty enemies for an honorable death, it should be saving ten lives."

Byleth takes off across the northern bridge with Claude while Leonie and Lorenz cross the western bridge. There's only a couple more bandits left on the other side, so it's safe to say this mission was a success.

I stand up and make my way over to the western bridge. It appears Byleth has everything under control. Which means all that's left to do is find this valuable object the stragglers were coming back for.

"Listen up class! Stay on your guard and help yourself to whatever you can find! And remember, it isn't stealing if it's bandits!" I shout.

The students that didn't follow Byleth trail behind me. This looks like where most of the bandits were coming from, so this must be where that valuable object is. I begin my search while occasionally looking up to check on the students.

"Look!" Felix shouts as he points to a small patch of fresh, misplaced dirt.

Whatever these guys stole must have been really important if they were trying to hide it. Raphael rips a folded-up tent off the ground. A small grin turns into a giant smile as he reaches down and grabs the handle of a half-buried chest.

"Good eye Raphael!" I state as I rush over and grab the other end.

The both of us lift, but the only end that comes up is Raphael's. I get a firm stance and lift again. Raphael pops his side up and skids it onto the ground's surface as mine barely reaches the hole's threshold. Felix steps up beside me, and the both of us press against the box with all our strength.

"Work those muscles boys!" Raphael cheers.

Felix drives his shoulder into the box and presses to the point his entire face turns red. Our corner of the chest finally slides over the edge, and the both of us are able to push it.

"Sweet Sothis, that's a lot of money." I state.

"You aren't joking." Felix states as he tries to catch his breath.

I bend down and examine the hasp. The joy I was feeling about opening this comes to an abrupt halt. The entire thing is made of metal, so smashing though isn't an option. Not only that, but the lock is built into the chest. If it's destroyed, then there will be no way to open it.

"So?" Felix asks.

"We're going to need a key." I reply.

"I'm sure if we ask the man in charge, he'll happily let us borrow it." Felix states.

"I like the way you think."

"We'll stay here and keep an eye on the chest." Raphael says.

The kids seem like they can hold their own, so it should be alright. Felix and I head back and cross the northern bridge. This area is a lot more open than the western path. Dilapidated buildings and ruined pillars of what was probably temples at one time are scattered all over the place.

I put my hand on my sword and carefully make my way towards the crumbled entrance of some kind of house. Felix keeps his sword up and covers the left while I watch the right. The both of us barge in, place our backs together and take an offensive stance.

"It seems I have some guests. You must be the second wave." A voice from a nearby room says.

The sound of chains rattling bounce off the cracked walls. Felix falls behind me as I take the lead and make my way into the room the voice came from. Sitting on the ground is this bizarre looking teenager. His pink hair completely contradicts the menacing set of steel armor he is wearing. Never have I seen a boy with hair as pink as Hilda's. His eyes are similar to the purple color of Edelgard's, except slightly darker in tint.

"Oh, so you aren't with them, are you?" The boy asks.

"The knights? No. I'm just a sword working for Garreg Mach."

"Ah, the good ole mercenary type. So tell me. What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

The boy lifts his hand up as high as he can and raises his index finger, "Ah, but I asked first. No need though. I know why you are here, and I'm here to tell you that the only key was lost when those bandits ambushed us."

"We're wasting time Artorias." Felix states.

"No, I want to hear what he has to offer." I say.

"That chest belongs to me. Now you let me go, and I'll offer you anything in that chest."

I wedge my sword into the lock of the chain and twist. The metal shackles around the boy's wrist and ankles snap. "Ah, the feeling of freedom." He states as he rubs his chafed wrists. The boy stretches his legs and lets out a huge groan of relief as he works some feeling into his tired body.

"Artorias right? The name's Charles, but you can call me Charley."

"Nice to meet you."

"Now, before I get to working on that chest, I have a score to settle. Have you seen the leader? Big ugly bastard with a scar, has a brown ponytail. Goes by Kocsta, or something like that?"

"I can't say I have." I state as we leave the room.

"Well he took something of value from me, and I want it back."

"You see Artorias? He's making up excuses. He can't get into that chest." Felix states.

"As of now, no, but with the other half of this, I can." Charley states as he holds up a bizarre looking device.  
It's got a polished wooden handle with a piece of stiff metal that comes down at a sharp angle. It's probably the actual key to the chest. With his average height, steel armor and flamboyant hair, the bandits probably seen him as more of a joke than a threat. Which is probably how he's still alive.

"So can you actually do something other than string us along?" Felix snaps.

"What's with the attitude? I haven't done anything wrong." Charley replies.

"You have to forgive Felix. He's not a very patient man." I state.

"Nah, it's okay."

Off in the distance, Claude and Byleth are finishing off the last of the bandits. Claude is shooting them as they run away as Byleth engages with this very muscular looking bandit. I'm supposing he's the leader considering he's hiding way back here. Leave it to the strongest to send the weakest to fight his battle.

"There's that fat skamelar!" Charley yells as he points at the man Byleth is fighting.

Byleth is weaving in and out of the man's attacks as he savagely swings an axe with no sense of control. The man brings the axe around and swings down with all of his might. Byleth holds his sword up and blocks the attack. The impact to the Byleth's iron sounds very unsettling. It's not blunt. Nor is it a smooth ping. It sounds incredibly crispy. Almost like someone biting into a cracker. Byleth attempts to swing wide and deflect another attack. This isn't good.

I scoop up another sword from a fallen bandit and tap it against my gauntlet. The grains in this sword ring with smooth strength. I take off in a full sprint towards Byleth while Charley and Felix trail behind me. Claude's attention focuses on us, and he joins in on the chase. Byleth's sword hooks with the beard of the man's axe, and Byleth tries to disarm the bandit. The folded layers within his sword snap and half of the sword goes flying over the cliffside.

Charley reaches down and picks up a decently sized rock as Byleth and his opponent both realize what just happened. "I got you now!" The man states as he brings the axe around.

"Master!" I shout as I toss the new sword.

At the same time, Charley does a little skip and chunks the rock. The stone whizzes through the air and strikes the scar on the bandit's face. He let's out a mighty bellow and staggers around as Byleth looks in our direction. His attention turns to the glimmer of dull iron flying in his direction.

He catches the blade, flips it around and stabs the man in the chest. Byleth places his foot on the guy, kicks him back and does a follow up slash. The iron cuts all the way through the leather armor. Blood splatters out of the gaping wounds as he falls to the ground.

"I shouldn't have listened to that idiot. What a mistake…" The man gasps.

The four of us slow our pace down and bring ourselves to a casual walk. Byleth walks over to the broken sword handle and picks it up. Judging by the way the metal fractured, it either had slag in the layers or didn't receive a proper heat treat.

"Nice shot there!" Claude says as he gives Charley a pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, it wasn't nothing." He states as he walks over to bandit Byleth killed and reaches into his pocket. "Ah, ha! On to the chest!" Charley exclaims as he pulls out a piece of metal with bizarre shaped bumps on the end.

"What chest?" Byleth asks.

"My chest! These bastards ambushed fa…my caravan!" Charley stutters.

Byleth and I look at one another. Just by the look on his face, he's thinking the same thing. However, I won't call Charley on it right now.

"So you can precisely throw rocks and hit a far away target? Why not use a bow?" Felix asks as I lead everyone to where the chest is.

"Because you can only carry what your quiver holds. Rocks are always in constant supply, and you can carry more of them." Charley replies.

"So you were an archer at one time?" Claude asks.

"I can use a bow, but I prefer to use rocks."

"That's so stupid! Why would you take a rock over a bow!?" Felix states.

"Felix, leave it." Byleth says in a firm voice.

"Whatever gets the job done is all that matters." I say.

"I've also noticed that you use an unconventional sword. I've heard of them, but this is my first time seeing one with my own eyes." Charley replies as he points to my sheathe.

The rest of the class are gathered around the chest. Charley introduces himself and states that it's his money, and that he intends on giving us whatever's inside since we helped save him and his fortune. Charley sticks the piece of metal with the wooden handle in and rotates it. The chest clicks and he locks it in place. He takes the chunk of metal with the bumps and inserts it a certain way.

"I don't know teach. Something's just not adding up." Claude whispers to Byleth.

"Hey Charley, I'm not judging, but aren't you a little too young to have this kind of money?" I ask.

"Well technically it's father's, but since this entire thing is going to get wrote off as a robbery, that makes it mine now." Charley replies as he rakes the metal in the lock back and forth.

The tumblers on the chest click and Charley rotates both objects in his hands. The lock turns, and he lifts the lid up. The very sight of the wealth shocks me. Gold bars, silver coins, exquisite jewelry and precious gemstones only fill half of the chest.

Incredibly pleasing aromas fill my nose as everyone in the class gasp at the amazing scent. Frankincense, myrrh, perfumes, exotic spices and teas from all around the world populate the rest.

"Okay! Who want's what?" Charley asks as he claps his hands together.

"As a noble, I must decline any offers of money, but it would be unknightly to reject any kind of tea." Lorenz states as he grabs a foreign metal tin of loose-leaf tea.

Hilda picks up a jar of myrrh and sniffs. "Wow, it's so strong, you can smell it through the jar!"

Personally, I don't care if anyone partakes of this immense wealth, but my main concern is what happens if Charley's father actually comes looking for it? If someone desperately wants something, nothing is going to stop them from getting it. Byleth and Claude are clearly thinking what I'm thinking.

"Hey Charley, your father is taking quite a financial hit. Are you sure he's not going to come looking for this?" I question.

"Oh, father isn't going to come looking for this! This chest right here? This is a very minor loss compared to what father makes on a daily basis!"

"What exactly does he do?" Byleth asks.

"Don't know, don't care! All I know is he sent me on a suicide mission from Faergus' district of Kleiman to the Adrestian province of Beramas with a couple of his business associates, and I'm the only one left!"

"Hey, consider it payment for almost losing your life? Right?" Leonie states.

"Damn straight sister!" Charley replies as he hands her a gold bar, and a handful of silver. "What would you like Artorias?"

"I don't want anything." I say.  
"Oh come on!"

"No really, I'm fine."

"Alright, but I'm saving it for you!" Charley states as he hands the rest of the wealth out. He makes Byleth and Felix an offer, but they decline. Even if they had accepted, there would have still been a couple gold bars and about six pieces of lavish jewelry. That's not including what's hidden beneath the mountains of silver coins and gemstones.

"Well that should just about do!" Charley states.

"Are you going to come back to Garreg Mach with us?" Claude asks.

"I think I'm going to live in the village." Charley replies.

"Well feel free to drop by anytime!" Raphael states.

"I just might do that!"

Byleth brings some satchels from a nearby table and sets them down, "Artorias, see that Charley gets to the village safely. I'll give you the debriefing tomorrow."

"Yes master."

Charley and I grab the leather satchels and pack up what's left. Charley gave most of the gold bars away so the loads shouldn't be too heavy. I load my satchel with all the silver coins and jewels while Charley packs the jars of myrrh and frankincense. Leonie and Raphael take a satchel and fill it with the remainder of the stuff.

"You're more than welcome to have that." Charley states as he tosses the satchel strap over his shoulder.

"Nah, it's perfectly fine. You've already been generous enough. The least I could do is help carry it." Leonie states.

"Yeah! Plus it will give me a chance to work my muscles since I couldn't work out this morning!" Raphael adds.

Everyone's satchel is budging with gold, silver and jewels. I can even see the imprint of the Faerghus king on a satchel Raphael is carrying. Although we are carrying the entire Fodlan economy on our backs, the village isn't too far from here. Leonie picks up her spear and leads the way while I bring up the rear.

"So Charley, why are you living in the village over Garreg Mach? You've got more than enough money to attend one of the houses." Raphael asks.

"Ah, the whole ordeal with my father, I just don't feel like messing with it. He tends to have lofty thoughts about himself, and if he heard I used this money to get an education, he'd cause a big ruckus. So lying low would be the best bet."

"You're doing this to get back at him?" I ask.

"Absolutely." Charley says with a hint of hatred in his tone.

"Well on the other hand, what do you like to eat?" I ask to try and shift the direction of the conversation.

"Smoked pork."

"Hey! Me too!" Raphael gasps.

"I do like sausage. Especially that expensive kind." Leonie adds.

The three of them converse back and forth over different ways to cook and eat pork and other types of meat. Charley's attitude lightens back up, and he smiles at the mention of fishing. Good. The kid seems to get pretty touchy when talking about family. A topic to avoid for now.

He said that him and some business associates were transferring this to the empire. All of them are dead, but they left Charley alive because he lied about the key. The more I think about it, the more his story checks out.

Nobody in the right mind would send this much wealth across the country without a massive protection detail capable of protecting it. Which means there's a possibility he wanted Charley and his associates dead. Something big was going on behind the curtain. Hopefully, this is where it ends.

"So why does your hair look like this? Did you braid this yourself?" Leonie teases as she grabs Charley's pink ponytail and tugs on it.

"Why do you have short hair? Are you one of those tomboys?" Charley pokes back by ruffling Leonie's short, orange hair.

We reach the end of the woods and break through the tree line. The paved road leading to the monastery breaks off to the left while the other path branches right and goes to the village. Charley lets out a sigh of relief as he readjusts the satchel on his shoulder.

"Who's in charge of residence?" Charley asks.

"That would be the magistrate. I'll show you where he's at." I answer as I take the lead.

The village is teaming with students from Garreg Mach as well as travelers and locals. The sweet smell of yeast fermenting sugar combines with people roasting different types of meat over spits linger in the market aisle.

The scent takes on a new aroma halfway through the market as a mild, metallic smell comes from blacksmiths pound blazing, hot metal into various shapes. Another zestful scent fills the air as traveling merchants try to catch wondering eyes with teas, spices and foreign souvenirs from surrounding countries.

"There it is." I point to a barrack shaped building to our left. Everyone gathers around the front entrance. Charley sits his load of treasure on the ground and puts his hands on his hips.

"Almost done. Almost done." He says in between small pants for air.

"Hey Charley, what are you going to do if they don't have a house for purchase?" Leonie asks.

"I'll probably stay in the tavern for a couple days and see if I can get a job."

The front door of the building opens up and the local magistrate pokes his head out, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, do you have any houses for sale?"

"I do. All over the place."

"Great! If y'all can just help me carry the stuff in, I can get it from here!" Charley says as he picks his bag back up.

The magistrate holds the door open as we enter the building. Charley sits down in a chair while the magistrate walks off to the back and grabs a map, a feather quill, some ink and the paperwork required to purchase a house. Leonie, Raphael and I sit our bags around the base of the chair while Charley scoots them to the desired place.

"Hey, thanks for the help! When I get settled in, y'all should come by and pay me a visit! The house will be under the name Louis Dubois!"

"But isn't your name…"

"Yes! My name is Louis Dubois, and I am traveling Fodlan for riches and gold! Thanks again for the help!" Charley interrupts Raphael as he vigorously shakes his hand.

"Ah, I'm confused, but okay Louis. I'll be sure to stop by sometime!" Raphael replies.

The magistrate returns and sits down behind his desk. We wave Charley goodbye, and him and the magistrate converse back and forth about potential cost, whether the house comes with furniture upon purchase, and if it's possible for farming.

"He seemed like a pretty cool guy! Too bad he didn't want to come to the monastery with us!" Raphael states as we cross the bridge.

"Moving up in the world I suppose." I openly reply to try and avoid conversation. The fact that a man would send that much wealth, as well as his own son across bandit ridden Faerghus does not add up. Who was that money supposed to go to, or did his father truly use this as a means to get rid of his son?

I mean, I'd like to think his father actually cared, but I do understand that's not the case in every situation. Then factor in the ambush and no word sent to the church about Charley or the money disappearing. Rhea isn't the one to hold out details about a mission if she knows. The more I think about it, the more I want to find out. Unfortunately, Charley seems to harbor resentment towards his father, so asking up front would be disrespectful.

When the adequate time comes, Charley will open up. Until then, all I can do is keep an eye on him…

End of Harpstring Moon Arc


	7. Chapter 6

All of my instincts are telling me this is a horrible idea. A wooden training sword rests within the palm of my right hand, and it's not the same shape of the sword I actually use. My left arm is latched into a worn leather strap that's attached to an awkwardly shaped piece of wood. The session hasn't even started, and I am already hating every second of it.

"It's only as bad as I make it." I repeat in my mind.

"When using a shield, you never want to expose yourself." Byleth says as he straps his arm into his shield and prepares to give a demonstration.

"Observe."

Byleth keeps his shield directly in front of him and delivers an overhead slash while slightly tilting the shield to the side. He quickly brings his arm back and returns the shield to its original position. During the entire attack, he exposed very little of himself.

"Now you try."

"You make it seem so effortless." I reply as I take a deep breath and get into a stance that helps counteract the lack of balance I am feeling. This feels weird not using both hands to swing, and the massive stump weighing down the left side of my body is really taking a toll on my arm.

I start my overhead swing and tilt the shield out of its path as the slash comes down. The sword clips the end of the shield before it can completely get out of the way, and it slightly alters the path of the original swing. The gauntlet of my sword hand scrapes against the metal of my shield hand as I bring my arm back and cover up with the shield.

"You need to make sure you move the shield about halfway through the swing instead of when it starts to drop. Don't be afraid to give yourself space as well, because if your arms clip one another, it won't be difficult for someone to throw you off balance with a counter attack." Byleth critics as he does the swing again.

I watch intently as the swing starts to travel down. There isn't much of a space between his gauntlets as the slash comes to a stop, but it was enough to prevent from clipping himself or his shield while maintaining the maximum amount of defense possible.

"Again."

Byleth walks over to my side and examines my positioning. I swing overhead and twist when the slash reaches halfway. The sword misses the shield but my arms collide again and hinders the ability to instantly recover.

"You're still swinging a little too close. Almost like you're trying to grab it."

"That's the problem. In the twenty years I've held a sword, my hands always reunited with one another after an attack." I reply as Byleth takes a hold of my wrist and guides me through the motion. My gauntlets clash, and my hands try to join together. Byleth forces my hands to follow through.

"You aren't joking. Even with my help, your arms are offering up heavy resistance."

Byleth steps back and thinks while I practice the swings a couple times by myself. It's nice to know he's trying to teach me something new, but this isn't going to work. It's been engrained into my soul that both hands belong on the sword, and even if I successfully learned this, there is a high possibility that it will mesh and interfere with what I was taught.

"Artorias, how much magic do you know?" Byleth asks.  
"I know a lot about black casting. Why?"

"I have an idea, but it will take some time to develop." He states.  
"What do you have in mind?"

"What is the hardest metal?"  
"Steel I think."

"Can it be infused with a defensive spell?"

"Gems can as long as the proper spell goes with the proper jewel, but defensive spells are more white magic than black. That's how people make enchanted jewelry without crests. Like a fire amulet, the stone would have to be a reddish, orange color like a ruby or a fire opal. Technically, it's 'illegal' since it undermines the crest system, but that doesn't stopped people from doing it." I reply as I clip my gauntlets again.

"Artorias, you get a passing grade for the day." Byleth says as he picks up his shield.

"That would be amazing if I was actually part of your class." I reply as I try to mimic his motions.

"Well you are, aren't you?"

"The only reason I'm even in this class is because of Edelgard."

"Well even if Edelgard pulled you out of my class, that wouldn't change the fact you're still my student." Byleth replies.

The door leading into the training room opens, and one of the Serios knights enter. He approaches us and gives a formal salute. Whatever it is, it can't be too serious. If there were a problem, then he would have shouted the moment he opened the door.

"Sir Artorias. This is for you. It's from a Mr. Dubois." The knight says as he holds out an elegant looking envelope, and a letter cutter.

I take the shield off my arm and split the top of the letter open. "Thank you. Dismissed." The knight takes the letter cutter back, gives his salute and leaves. The letter inside is specifically addressed to me.

"Who's Mr. Dubois?" Byleth asks.

I look around and make sure nobody is within ear shot. Although it's not very relevant, it would be best if a select few knew. The only ones in the training area are me and Byleth, but it's not good enough. I quickly scan outside the room to make sure nobody is trying to listen through the door with a crystal cup.

"You remember that boy we saved back in Zando?" I say in a light voice.

"Charlie?"

"SHHHHH! Keep it down!"

"What's the big deal?"

"Charley is going by a Louis Dubois, and that's what he put on his paperwork when he bought a house."

"A little paranoid, aren't we?"

"You don't understand. Every time Charley mentioned his dad, I just got this feeling. Like with that one girl from the black eagles. What's her name? Purple hair, ultra-shy. Bart, bert …"

"Bernadette?"

"That one. You know that girl suffered some kind of abuse at the hands of her parents just by the way she acts. Well Charley gives me the same vibes when he brought up his dad."

"What's the letter say?" Byleth asks.

"It's not a letter, but an invitation. You want to come with?" I hand him the paper.

"That depends. Do you…" I hang my training sword up and place the shield on the weapon rack before he can finish the sentence.

"I'm going to say that's a no." Byleth answers himself as he hands the letter back.

I fold the letter up and stick it in my side satchel as we leave the training room. Byleth hasn't mentioned anything about our next class mission, so I'm guessing we don't have one yet. We may not even have one this month. Doubtful, but it's something to hope for. No matter how well these kids are trained, it still makes me sick to my stomach at the thought of one of them getting hurt or dying.

It has to be nerve racking for someone like Byleth to be able to lead these kinds of missions with a cool head and calm manner. Deep down, is he actually scared that someone may get killed? Back on the mountain, I know I was. Although if Lorenz caught a broom to the face, I'd laugh, but to actually see him or any of the kids die is something I can't even imagine. Something I don't want to imagine.

Since morning classes are over, all of the students are enjoying lunch or goofing off. Leonie and Raphael are both at the pond with Alois. Leonie is trying to fix up a fishing pole while Raphael and Alois causally sit on the pier with their bobbers in the water.

"Come on… Come on…" Alois whispers in a frustrated tone.

Byleth and I keep our distance from the water and kneel down to reduce the noise we could be making. Judging by their attitudes, it doesn't look like they caught anything since they started. Leonie ties a fisherman's knot on her pole while Alois lifts his bobber out of the water. He sighs in disappointment as the bait has been stripped from his hook.

"I swear, I'll catch one before this is over." Alois states.

"What exactly are you doing?" Byleth states as we approach the pier.

"Oh, teacher! Artorias! What are you two doing here?" Leonie asks as she stands up.

"We were just about to go see Louis Dubois' new house. Want to come with?" I ask.

"Louis…Louis… Oh yeah! That boy from Zando! Sure! I was wondering how he was doing! Raphael, Alois, want to come?" Leonie asks.

"Sure." Raphael replies.

"Nah, I think I'll stay. I'm determined to catch something today." Alois replies as he casts another line. Raphael and Leonie return their rods to the fishing shack and wash the mud off their hands in the pond.

"If you catch something, I'll filet it for you." I say to Alois.

"Good! Because I don't know the first thing about cleaning a fish! Let alone catching them!"

Byleth, Leonie, Raphael and I leave the front gates of Garreg Mach and make our way to the village.

"Where exactly is he staying?" Leonie asks.

"Charley said it was down by the brook. Said we couldn't miss it." I reply as I pull out some tobacco I rolled this morning.

"Wait, I thought we were visiting some guy named Louis?" Raphael questions.

"It's that guy Artorias and Felix saved from the mountains." Leonie says.

"Oh yeah! That guy!"

I pick up a stone, strike a match against the grain and stick the flame to the tip of the tobacco. Cold smoke flows down my throat and chills the air deep in my lungs. I exhale, and the white vapor leaves my mouth with a cool mint taste. I don't know what kind this is, but it's pretty good. This must have come from the region of Sreng or someplace with a hot climate. Chances are, this came from some of those sand merchants traveling to Enbarr.

Occasionally, they will make a midway stop at Garreg Mach to rest and offload some merchandise before heading into the Adrestian Empire. That way if business fails there, they have enough money to make it back home.

The four of us reach the bridge and head left. Massive houses made entirely out of Adrestian ash wood rest twenty paces from the river bank. Several small bridges interconnect with one another and form a network of paths that cross over the brook below. Almost every house has some kind of irrigation system. Most of the backyards are filled with crops ranging from barely and hops to olives. Some houses even have presses for extracting olive oil and stills for ale production.

"Artorias!" I hear Charley yell from the distance.

We all stop and look around at the houses. Almost every one of them look the same except the one at the end. Charley is standing on a marble balcony that juts out of a three-story house. A wall made out of solid granite completely fences in a huge grape vineyard.

"Nice house!" Leonie yells back as we all stand at the gate entrance.

"I know! It was the biggest they had!" Charley jumps to a nearby pergola and climbs down. He rushes over and unlocks the back gate, "Welcome to my chateau!" His clothes are sopping wet. Almost like he just got done taking a bath.

The back yard of the place is even more massive than it looks. Marble statues overlook fountains spew crystal blue water into a small reservoir. Elegant bridges carved from stained yew wood cross over gapping crevices filled with fresh river water. Several types of fish barely swim below the surface of the water.

"Don't try and hand catch those fish. That water is a lot deeper than it looks." Charley states.

"So that's why your wet." Leonie says.

"Yup. I figured I'd try and catch some since I didn't have a rod. The moment I grabbed that fish, I realized I made a huge mistake. He was a lot bigger than I expected, and he took me with him. Once my grip let go, I stood up on the bottom, and my head still wasn't out of the water."

"If I would have known you didn't have a rod, I would have brought you one!" Raphael says.

"That's nice of you, but it was my fault. This was more of a blind purchase, and I didn't know what I was getting into. Otherwise, I would have sent word to bring some rods."

"Well next time, we'll be sure to." Leonie replies.

"So how much this place cost?" I ask as I put my tobacco out.

Charley stops in his tracks, looks at me and shakes his head, "you have no idea, but it was worth it in my opinion. The house itself and furniture wasn't that much. What got me was the year supply of food I bought from the market. That cost more than the place itself."

"I can imagine. You sure went all out on the purchase. Did you save some?" Leonie asks.

"Only Artorias' cut. I used the rest of it to purchase this house and necessities."

This place must have been a winery at one time because there is a still in a nearby barrel assembly shack. Which is probably why Charley bought this house. If he wanted to make some serious money, he could sell wine to the church, and the knights. Most people dealing in wine price gouge since it's considered an essential to nobility. With this vineyard, Charley could probably sell his at half price and still have enough wine left over for the winter seasons.

Charley leads us to a stone table underneath a shaded patio. The seats have been carved in a way that it completely surrounds the table like a bench. Everyone sits down while Charley enters his house and grabs some plates.

"Here, let me help." Leonie says. Charley hands her a wheel of white cheese.

I take the dagger from my gauntlet and cut a sliver of the table soap off. Byleth removes his gauntlets as Charley pours some water on his hands. I put my dagger back in its recess, take my gauntlets off and douse my hands. Thick orange lather forms on my fingers and gives off a citrus fragrance as it mixes with the water.

Charley washes the soap off his hands and picks the bucket up. I hold my hands away from the table, and he rinses the suds off. Raphael hands the plates out while Leonie fills everyone's cup with a red liquid.

Raphael tips his glass up and swishes the drink around in his mouth. Disgust grows across his face, and he lets out a verbal sigh of distain with a big gulp. "What is that stuff? It's awful!"

"Wine. I bought it because it lasts a lot longer than sugar juice." Charley states as he swirls his cup around.

"You're supposed to sip it. Not drink the entire thing in one go." Leonie says as she tips her glass up.

"If there's any left over, help yourselves, because I'm not drinking anymore of that anytime soon." Raphael replies as he takes a bite of his cheese.

I pick my slice up and look it over. A strong odor punches me in the nose. My throat clinches, and a trapped cough escapes my lungs. Everybody snickers as I continue to examine this strange cheese. The outside shell is white, but the inside looks like yellow clotted cream. I've never really seen cheese like this, but it must be good because everyone else has eaten theirs. If only it didn't smell like a stagnant pond of scum.

"What's the matter Artorias?" Charley asks.

"Nothing. Nothing."

I hold my breath and take a bite of the cheese. The soft chunk rolls around and coats the inside of my mouth with a very pungent taste. The cheese melts into a fluid and flows down my throat. The sharp after taste leads me to believe the milk wasn't boiled before being made into cheese. On a personal scale, this isn't bad. If only it smelled as good as it tasted.

I take a drink of wine to help wash the after taste away. The mild sting of alcohol pulls the layer of cheesy slime off the roof of my mouth. Grapes, seeds, and broken veins off the vine form one coagulant of overpowering bitterness that dulls the fermented taste of curds and whey. The wine itself would be absolutely atrocious, but when paired with this cheese, it actually increases the flavor quality.

Charley cuts everyone a second piece off the wheel. I don't know if I can handle another one, but I'll do it because it was offered to me. Every quickly devours their second slice, while I barely finish the first one.

"What do you think of the cheese?"

"It's different." I answer.

Charley takes a bite of his slice and sits there without taking a sip of wine. Byleth and everyone else does the same thing. They're taunting me. I know it. Everyone else has barely touched their wine while my glass is nearly empty. It's actually concerning me that I may not have enough to polish off this last slice.

"I'm taking it you're not too wild about the soft cheese?" Charley says.

"All I've really eaten was hard cheese that's been boiled, preserved in salt or slightly molded, so I'm trying to adjust to the difference in flavor."

"Blue cheese?"

"I enjoy it."

"Well next time, I'll make special arrangements to get you some."  
"You don't…"

"No, you're a guest just like everyone else here. What about y'all?"

"Personally, I'm fine with this soft cheese." Byleth says.

"Same." Leonie replies.

"It's not meat, but I heard cheese helps build strong bones!" Raphael states.

Everyone casually talks back and forth while I attempt to finish my second slice. Raphael and Leonie snag the last of the cheese wheel and munch on the rind as Byleth finishes his glass of wine.

"Hey Artorias."

"Yes Charley."

"Would you know where to get a job?"

"What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"I know how to swing a hammer, notch a bow and sling rocks."

Byleth places his hands together and leans forward like he's thinking. Charley has my attention. The thought of having someone that is strictly anti-armor would be beneficial. The closest unit we have against armor would be Raphael, but he's focusing on hand to hand combat. Hilda is next, but the bad thing about axes is they tend to stick in the target if they are wearing armor.

Then we have Lysithea and her magic, but that will be countered if the enemy is wearing enchanted armor. If they can, generals will wear heavy plating that completely resists magic if the situation arises.

A hammer won't get stuck, it can cave skulls in by striking the helmet, break bones, and completely ignore any kind of magical enchantments placed on armor. That being said, there's one other factor to take in.

"How good are you?" Byleth asks.

"I can go get my hammer."

"That won't be necessary for today. However, I want you to come by Garreg Mach tomorrow morning. I'll give you a basic test, and if you pass, you can go on the next mission with us."

"What's the mission?"

"That's yet to be decided."

"How will I be able to go on missions if I'm not a student?" Charley questions.

"There's a loophole I can exploit to get you hired as my apprentice. The only requirement is you have to be out in the field with me." I answer.

"If it gets me out of the house, I'll take it!" Charley says.

"You may get paid in rations rather than actual money."

"Hey, if it keeps me from spending money, I'll take whatever Garreg Mach can give."

"Yeah…" I sheepishly state.

In reality, Charley should get an apprentice's allowance, but because he'll be associated with me, the church is going to give him the equivalence of what I receive. The kid deserves so much more, but he can't be Byleth's apprentice because he's not a student of Garreg Mach. None of the knights are going to accept him since he's an outsider. Plus the pink hair and purple eyes don't make him the most intimidating either.

Then there's the fact he would rather sling rocks than shoot a bow. Even though Charley could probably offer a logical explanation on why he prefers rocks over arrows, that won't be enough to convince someone to take him in.

"Then it's settled. Bring your armor and hammer. Prove you know how to use it, and you'll have a place among us." Byleth says as he stands up and shakes Charley's forearm.

"I'll be sure not to disappoint."

"That's the spirit!" Raphael cheers as they say their goodbye.

"I'll be looking forward to your performance." Leonie states.

Charley comes over to me and holds out his hand. I grab his forearm, and the both of us give a firm squeeze and a shake. "Consider me your apprentice."

"I look forward to it."

Charley escorts us to the back gate and waves us goodbye. I pull my tobacco back out and strike another match. It would be a lot easier if I used one of my fire spells, but I prefer people outside Garreg Mach didn't know about my black casting abilities. The less people know, the better. The burnt tuffs of tobacco reignite, and the soothing cool from the smoke fills my chest.

"Do you think he has a chance of passing professor?" Leonie asks.

"I hope so. Having someone strictly wielding a hammer would give us a huge advantage. What do you think Artorias?"

"He may not look it, but I have a feeling there's more to that kid than meets the eye."  
"Agreed. Let's just hope it wasn't luck back at Zando."

Luck had nothing to do with what happened back at the canyon. There are highly trained archers at Garreg Mach that couldn't have made that shot in such a short amount of time. Even if they were using a relic. Yet Charley hit that bandit directly in the side of the face with a stone nearly thirty paces away. If the kid would have actually had a sling, that rock would have went all the way through that man's face.

Leonie and Raphael head back to Garreg Mach while I take off towards my house. Even though it's still early, I'm going to go home and rest up before the next mission. Since Byleth proved himself a capable leader, we will more than likely be entrusted with a bigger task this time.

"Hey Artorias." Byleth calls out.

"What is it?"

"I have something I want to discuss."

"What's on your mind?"

"It's about Zando."

"What about it?"

Byleth searches his mind as if he is trying to think. He's looking for an explanation, but it's as if he's struggling to come up with one, "Have you ever had the feeling that you've been somewhere before, but you don't remember how or why?"

I take a huge puff off the tobacco and dwell on his question. That is probably one of the strangest questions ever asked. Yet for some bizarre reason, it's relatable.

"Like, was Zando familiar in some way?"

"I know it sounds crazy."  
"No. I understand."

"You do?"

"Of course. You have visions?" I ask.

"I do."

"And yet, you haven't actually been to Zando before?"

"No." Byleth states.  
"I have these myself. Especially when it comes to my childhood."

"Do you possibly have an explanation?"

"Sometimes, our destiny tries to inform us of the future. Be it through dreams or visions. It serves as a warning of the burdens we must carry, and the hardships that must be endured. I don't know why these things happen, but I do believe these abilities are bestowed upon people capable of bearing the curse."

"What curse?"

"A curse which the strong must lift the weight of the world. I would like to hope that day will never come, but it will, and when it does, the content of you character will be judged just as mine and everyone else's."

Byleth seems to be at a loss for words. Which there isn't any reason to blame him. This isn't necessarily an easy subject to talk about or explain. Dreams and visions happen to everyone, but just because it occurs doesn't make it true. However, they do have the tendency to point us in the right direction of our destiny. For better or worse.

"Would you like some water before you head back?" I ask as I unlock the front door of my house.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll just get some when I get back to the monastery."

I take one final hit off the tobacco, snuff out the tip and flick the stub into a patch of dirt.

"Hey Artorias. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Byleth waves goodbye and treks back to Garreg Mach. I pull all my armor off and set it up. The shine reflecting off the metal is still bright, so the polish is holding up. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, so everything needs to be in tip top shape.

I stir the ash in the fire place and expose some embers. Despite being put out this morning, there is still little orange coals burning. Which means there won't be any need for a match or a fire spell. I shred up some pine needles and blow.

The orange coals glow with life, and the dried tinder belches out a thick cloud of grey smoke. Heat gently builds up, and an orange flame pokes its head out of the pine needles. I toss on a couple twigs and feed the fire with a log. The smoke dissipates, and the chunk of wood brings stability before the flames can grow in rage. At this rate, the fire should last through the night.

I lay down on my bed and continually think back on the conversation with Byleth. Zando was called the red canyon because of the slaughter that occurred there a long time ago. Even though that's just a legend used to teach the evils of genocide, I can't help but worry.

Will an incident similar to that myth happen in my lifetime? Or am I just being superstitious. I don't know what he saw, but hopefully Byleth's vision was nothing more than a bad dream…


	8. Chapter 7

A chilly spell of air blows from the right and chills me to the bone. I roll over on my side and nestle deeper into the blanket. My head slips off the pillow, and the ephemeral warmth of curling up like a cat helps fight off the cold.

Despite trying to go back to sleep, the moist wind has ruined any chances of that. I keep my blanket wrapped around me as I walk over to the fire. Most of it has burned out, but some of the log from yesterday is faintly burning.

I shred up some more pine needles and nurture the fire. Satisfaction comes over me as a wave of heat seeps through my blanket and blisters my freezing skin. I turn around and set my armor around the fire.

**Clod! Clod!**

"You better hope to Sothis I know who you are!" I yell as I grab my sword and unsheathe it.

"It's me! I brought you something Artorias!"

I fling the door open and press my supporting palm flat against the bottom of the sword's handle. A flash of white hair, and the glimmer of purple eyes prevent me from flying forward. Edelgard is carrying some kind of basket. I twirl my sword around and re-sheathe it.

"Empress Edelgard. Forgive me."

"All is forgiven. Living up in these mountains, you'd constantly have to be on guard."

"You have no idea. Come on in."

"Thank you."

Edelgard sorts through a basket she brought while I build up the fire and boil some water. She pulls out two cups, some loose-leaf tea, and a couple of freshly made pastries. Although sugar is something I'm not too fond of, they do look good.

Edelgard and I give our hands a quick rub with some lye soap and lightly wash it off into the edge of the fireplace. The soapy water hits the bed of ash and forms a crater of grey, sizzling matter.

I take one of my clean tankards and dip some boiling water out for the tea cups. The white froth on the water absorbs the tea oil and turns a crimson color. Steam carries the strong odor of bergamot up and fills the entire house with the smell budding, orange blossoms.

"I actually made these myself. I was on kitchen duty this morning, and there was some leftover dough and fruit." Edelgard says as she puts a pastry with blue filling on a plate and hands it to me.

"Thank you." I say as I bite into it.

Blue filling leaks down the side of my face as my teeth grind the fruit up. The sweet juice from the blueberries mix with the refined sugar and leaves a pleasant taste in my mouth. Edelgard takes her pastry and dunks it in tea before eating hers.

"This boy with pink hair came to the kitchen this morning. He said he knew you and Byleth."

"Yeah. That's Louis. We call him Charley though. He's taking a test to be my apprentice."

"I see. Well to be honest, I seriously thought he was a girl when I first saw him."

Edelgard and I chuckle as we finish our pastries and sip tea. The bergamot really brings out the flavor of the pastry even after I've eaten it. Too bad I didn't think to dunk mine in the tea like Edelgard.

"By the way, Hanneman's got something he wants you to try out."

"What's he got?"

"It's a secret because it's a tool for your gauntlet."

"Oh yeah. Don't want Rhea finding out about Hanneman's secret plot to replace the crest system."

Edelgard takes another sip of her tea and goes into deep thought, "Artorias. Do you remember that day you were reading your mother's journal?"

"And you asked me why there were a bunch of scratches on the page?"

Edelgard giggles, "Yes that day. You said you were reading an entry about how your mom beat you within an inch of your life for saying you'd do anything for a crest?"

"I can still feel the burns from that briar stick."

Looking back on that day, I understand mom's anger. There was this guy who offered me a chance to get a crest. At the time, I was a stupid kid that didn't understand how the world works. Mother was standing by my side the entire time this was going on and she said, "go ahead Artorias. I'll see you in a month."

As I left the city with that man, mom ran him through with her sword and took his head off. She then proceeded to whoop my ass so hard that I couldn't sit for a week. She then threatened that it would be a month before I'd ever sit if I ever talked about accepting a crest from a stranger again.

As a child, I wanted to do it because we needed money. Things were difficult, and mother was going hungry for my sake, but that's when she told me that there are no such things as good intentions. Then mother broke down and cried because she couldn't bear seeing me throw my life away for something as trivial as a crest. That's when I realized that it wasn't the whooping that hurt me the most, but the shame and fear I instilled in her heart.

"I know it sounds wrong, but that was a wonderful thing your mother did. She wouldn't have beat you if she didn't love you." Edelgard states as a solemn look of sorrow grows across her face.

"The horrible truth was, I didn't have a choice. That day I was playing in my room, these men burst in, and tied my feet together. They didn't even have the decency to properly restrain me because they wanted me to resist and try to crawl away. I remember screaming for someone to save me, but nobody came."

Edelgard pulls the sleeve of her black uniform up and shows me a crest that was forcefully planted on her. Unlike the one she was born with, there is a huge bruise right below the surface of her skin. The crest itself looks artificial because the flesh surrounding the area bulges out. Whereas her normal crest lays flush with the skin.

Edelgard takes a deep breath and collects herself before she becomes emotional again, "people believe crests are blessings from the goddess. That they are necessary to maintain order in Fodlan. But those people are wrong. Crests are to blame for this brutal, irrational world we live in."

"A couple years from now, Hanneman will have this all figured out, and his inventions will make the crest system obsolete. When that time comes, you'll be the one that will bring a new dawn to all of Fodlan, Edelgard Von Hresvelg."

"I wish everyone shared your enthusiasm about the future. I just wish there was a way to speed things up."

"Mother always said 'simple patience is the greatest power.' Give it time, and everything will work out for what's best."

As long as nobody does anything rash, things will come together sooner or later. First thing is first, Hanneman and I have to try and figure out how to transfer the elemental power from gems over to metal. Since a corresponding element goes with the corresponding gem, we have to find one for steel or iron. If there isn't one, then we'll have to figure out how to embed the metal the hard way.

Once we discover a way to embed metal though, it will change everything. Crests and relics won't have any place in the world anymore. Men who were given authority will be stripped of it, and that power will be given to the people. A country that doesn't answer to an individual, but an individual that must answer to a country.

"I enjoyed our conversation." Edelgard says as we gather up the dining utensils and stick them back in the basket.

"I look forward to the next one."

Edelgard waves goodbye and leaves. I put my armor on, mount my claymore to my back and grab my sword. The fact that a new system is going to replace the crests makes me happy. It's an honor to take part of Hanneman's research, and the joy of being hailed as a pioneer of an everlasting system feels great.

**_CLOS! CLOS!_**

"Artorias! It's the church! I've come to judge you as a heretic!" Hanneman shouts from outside.

I pick up a piece of rope, tie it to the door handle and flip the lock, "Aren't we all heretics in our own way?!"

I yank on the door with the rope. Hanneman bursts through and immediately looks in the gap between the house, and the door. He catches on and squares up. The both of us collide, and lock our arms up.

"How are you doing son?"

"Surviving. What do you got?"

Hanneman holds up a metal device that is secured with polished leather straps. It's shaped like a small, rectangular box, but the slightest idea fails to come to my mind. Judging by the genuine smile on his face, this must be something entirely new. Rotating sears peek through tiny slits on the metal. Whatever it is, it's extremely complex and complicated. Which is probably why Hanneman feels so strongly about it.

"A new piece for your gauntlet!"

"I would have never guessed." I reply as I kneel down.

Hanneman sits beside me and mounts the box onto my right gauntlet. He tightens the straps to the point that the leather is crinkling. Hanneman takes out a small grey rod of steel and presses it against where my gauntlet and the box meet. The end of the steel turns orange, and the grey fuses itself into the metal. The light given off paints Hanneman's face a light shade of blue as the shadows in my house scurry to try and find a hiding place.

"Does it feel natural?" He asks as he lets my right arm around.

I fling it around and try to find any potential flaws in the design. Despite my best efforts, nothing is holding me back. There isn't even any extra weight. Nor does it feel obstructive. The box sits so low that it looks as if it's part of my armor. The only way someone could actually tell it was there is if they were right up on me.

I draw my sword out of the sheathe and give a couple practice swings, "I don't know what you did, but it feels as if it wasn't even there."

"Ah, but that's the idea!" Hanneman replies as I put my sword up and sit back down.

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you when we get done! You're going to love it!"  
Hanneman presses the grey rod into the gap and fuses the other side. He removes the leather straps and cleans the black residue left over from the weld.

"There! Finished! I hope you like it!"

"I'd love it if I knew what it was." I reply.

"Okay Artorias, hold your arm out and summon a small bit of mana." Hanneman says as he steps back.

I pull some mana from my body and channel it into my right palm. Metal rings out from within the box with a loud _sheesh_ sound. Several layers of interconnected steel jet out the front of the box. The sudden sight causes me to flinch. Ringed metal form a dagger shaped blade that extends past my hand. Hanneman presses a switch on the side, and the blade retracts and folds itself back into the box.

"I call it a phantom dagger, and you're the first to bear witness to it! Now, let me show you how it operates! This is the button to make the blade retract!" Hanneman states as he points to the button he just pushed. "This thing runs off your ability to channel mana. Say you're in a fight, and you want to put the sword away and use spells, you move this here!"

Hanneman flips a small lever and repositions it to where it's locked into a notch. "Try it!"

I channel some mana into my hand, but the blade fails to extend out of the box.

"This switch activates a gear that locks up and prevents the magic from activating the blade! Now, if you can't use mana for some reason, I put a fail safe in the very back of the contraption!"

Hanneman presses another button on the back and steps back, "Now just give it a good flick!"

I fling my wrist, and the blade ejects out of the box.

"This way, you always have some kind of weapon! However, this is a prototype, so if you deploy it with the back switch, you'll have to manually push the blade back in." Hanneman says.

"I'll keep that in mind." I reply as I push the blade tip into the floor. It folds up and stores itself into the box on my gauntlet.

"Any more surprises?"

"Other than my research being at a stand-still, no."

"So what's going on?" I ask as I snuff out the fire and lock my door.

"Well, it appears metals can be enchanted, but it's much more complicated than I originally thought. If only I could figure out how to mimic the crest stones in relics."

"Are you in need of a crest weapon?"

"Yes. Seteth didn't take too kindly to the one I was studying, so I was forced to hand it over."

"The church's censorship is killing us."

"There is one way I could get a crest stone right now, but I'm not going to drag Honora into this."

"Yeah, there's no reason to get her involved. I could probably steal you a relic, but I'll have to do it when Rhea and them aren't paying attention."

This isn't good news. The fact the church keeps interfering with Hanneman's research is stifling his progress. If it wasn't for them, he would probably have the first metal weapon prototype. It would be best to get a stone that's already been removed from a relic.

The tomb below the monastery is full of crest stones, but it's almost impossible to get down there without a key, and Rhea has them. The only other way to obtain a stone is to kill someone with a relic, and pry the stone out.

However, that's extremely dangerous since it's likely going to corrupt the person trying to steal the stone. Unless they bear a crest that aligns with the relic. If worst comes to worst, I'll just tie a rope to the weapon and drag it to my house. It won't be a crest stone alone, but it will be something for Hanneman to work with.

Hanneman heads back to his office while I make my way to the training grounds. The class is sitting on the bleachers while Charley destroys some targets with a hammer.

He mounts his hammer on his back, takes out a couple rocks from a belt pouch and loads a black sling. He swishes it around his body and releases the sling as it hits max speed. The rocks fly out and strike three helmets at various levels of elevation. Every helmet hits the ground and bounces across the floor as Charlie grabs his hammer and spins.

The head of the hammer slams into a wooden training dummy and recoils back. Charley uses the momentum and changes his positioning. He brings the hammer around and swings overhead. The dummy explodes into several chunks of splintered wood that scatter all over the place.

"Stop!" Byleth yells.

Charley lays his hammer across his shoulders, "So, how did I do?"

"You did well. The sling is easily your strongest asset. The hammer could use some work, but I'm sure under Artorias instruction, you'll improve. The only thing you really need to work on is your balance and spacing. Other than that, I look forward to having you on the battlefield."

Charley lets out a visible sign of exclamation and cheers under his breath. I join my hands together and clap. This is actually kind of exciting. Yet, it's also unnerving. I have someone to look out for on the battlefield. Not only that, but I'll be responsible for his training, setting his monthly goals and turning him into a responsible man.

"Artorias! I passed! I passed!" Charley cheers.

"Good for you!"

"I guess that means I'm your apprentice now."

"Promise me one thing Charles. That you won't turn into a slacker like Artorias." Lorenz teases.

"Just you wait, you're going to pay for that one." I reply as Lorenz and I poke back at one another.

"Listen up, this is our next task for the month." Byleth states. Lorenz and I stop and stand at attention.

"We are going to be tasked with putting down a small revolt around Gaspard. Some lord named Lonato is wreaking havoc and causing civil unrest. As of now, we have no idea why, but we are in charge of stopping it. Artorias, Charley, you two ride ahead and get acquainted with the villagers. Let them know the church is coming to their aid."

"Yes master."

"I will also be sending a couple of students from the other houses to assist you with the mission."

"Skillsets?"

"Felix, and a healer from the blue lions. You'll also have a mage from the black eagles and blue lions."

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

"Because if you were to suffer a severe injury, and nobody was around to help, then that would reflect badly on me." Byleth states.

"Fair enough."

"They are waiting down by the stables for you. Dismissed."

I give my salute and exit the training room. Charley attempts to give a salute himself and catches up with me.

So, this is going to be a good ole regicide. This takes me back to my teenage years when mother and I would infiltrate estates and plantations to kill lords deemed unworthy by the people. Gathering intel, getting a lay of the land, learning patrol routes and shift changes, delivering a fatal blow from the shadows, and then walking away like nothing ever happened.

Even though this will more than likely be an actual battle, it isn't going to discourage me from trying to end this before it begins. Although the chances of that are very slim since I'll have to keep an eye on Charley, and the other kids.

Felix and a couple other students exchange idle conversation as Charley and I approach. This must be the kids Byleth's sending with us. There isn't enough people to hinder our movement, but enough to fight a small battle if something happens. One of the students I recognize.

She's from the black eagle's house, and she was the one that introduced me to everyone in Edelgard's class. Her luscious brown hair is tucked underneath a black hat.

"Artorias! I'm so glad to see you!"  
"The feeling is mutual. How have you been Dorothea?"

"Pretty good. Let me introduce you to our new friends. This is Mercedes. She's studying white magic." Dorothea introduces the girl sitting to her left. Her hair is braided into a tail that drapes down the front of her left shoulder.

"Hello! It's nice to meet you both!" Mercedes says in a cheerful voice as she reaches out and shakes my hand and Charley's.

"Artorias."

"Charley."

"And this is Annette. She's mastering black magic." Dorothea points to this short girl with red hair.

"Grimoire?" I ask.

"Wind. How about you?"

"Fire, lighting and blood arcane. This is my apprentice, Charley." I reply.

"Pleased to meet you Annette." Charley introduces himself.

"And I am pleased to meet you."

The both of them shake hands and converse back and forth. Felix lets out a silent scoff and twirls a dagger around in his left hand. Unlike Annette and Mercedes, he is dressed for combat. He even went out and got his own weapon from the blacksmith. Probably because he doesn't want to depend on poorly tempered iron swords the church will provide for us.

"I see that you got yourself a new sword." Charley says as he tries to start up a conversation with Felix.

"Yes. I bought it myself." Felix replies.

"Oh quit being so self-absorbed Felix! Can't you see Charley is trying to open up to you?" Dorothea states.

"He's not even a member of my house. Let alone, a student here."

"I'm aware." Charley answers in a disappointed tone.

"You're going to be sitting this one out if you don't straighten up." I say as some stable attendants lead a couple horses our way. Among the two black ones is the one I brought back that night I first met Byleth.

His mane and tail have been combed, and his golden skin has been polished. Every horse has some kind of armor as well as a banner from the church. I unlatch the armor from my horse and take the banner off.

"What are you doing?" The stable attendant asks as I hang the armor back up.

"It would be best if the enemy didn't know we were coming."

"Oh come on, we can hold our own." Felix says.

"Sometimes the best fights are the ones that can be avoided." I reply as I unhook the armor from a black horse and remove the banner. The attendant assists me with the final horse, and we put everything back into the stable.

"That's coward talk!" Felix yells.

"We have a small squad of six people. Five of which lack sufficient experience when dealing with an army. If we roll into a village waving flags and cheering **_Rhea vult_**, you students aren't going to make it out alive, and I don't need that on my conscience."

"I think it would be best if we listen to Artorias. After all, he's been doing this for a long time." Dorothea says.

Felix sighs in frustration, but he does know I'm right. I step into the stirrup on my golden horse and sit myself in the saddle. Charley climbs up onto a black horse while Felix mounts the final horse.

"Are there horses for the girls?" I ask.

"The ones left are for Byleth and his students. The rest of the horses were deployed this morning." The stable assistant says.

"You here that? We'll be riding in pairs. Pick a horse and hold on." I say.

Dorothea climbs up with Felix while Charley helps Mercedes sit behind him. Annette circles around and tries to figure out how to get up. She lifts her leg up, but it doesn't even come close to the stirrup.

When I first seen her, I didn't realize just how small Annette really was. Her appearance looked small, but it wasn't until trying to ride a horse that her tiny stature truly revealed itself. As much as it pains me, it's something that has to be done.

I anchor down and reach out. Annette grabs a hold of my arm. And I pull her up like a child. She throws her left leg over the horse's head and takes a seat in front of me.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"No." Annette says.  
"Well consider this a free lesson."

I hand her the black reins, "You lead the horse with this. Next, you have to firmly drive your heels into the horse's side in order to make it go."

Annette spurs the horse, and he takes off in a walk. The unexpected force throws her off balance. I help Annette regain her seat before she falls off. The sudden pull of the reins causes the horse to come to a stop.

"I wasn't expecting that." Annette says.

"Happens to us all."

"Artorias! Wait!" Someone from behind us yells.  
I turn around and see Honora running towards us as fast as she can. Her lightly colored blue hair is swaying back and forth in the air. The collar of her dress is drenched in sweat, her hair is frazzled and her shoes are missing.

"What is it?" I ask.

"One of the students told me you were leaving."

"Where's your headdress and shoes?"

I had to ditch them so I could reach you in time."

Honora holds out her right hand. White rose petals form an elegant looking garland, "I made this for you."

Dorothea, Annette, and Mercedes all gasp as I bring my leg around and drop off the horse, "Thank you Honora. Would you?"

Honora giggles and puts the garland on the top of my head, "I'll be back. Promise."

"I will pray for your safety."

I climb back up and balance myself inside the saddle, "Alright. Let's get going."

Annette spurs the horse, and I help her guide the horse in the direction we need to go. For some reason, she is blushing, and Dorothea look as if she's just witnessed something breathtaking. Mercedes has a huge smile on her face that looks genuine.

I don't know what the big deal is. Honora just gave me a comeback alive gift. She always does that when we're dealing with a high level threat. It gives me a much-needed morale boost to push through the fight and return.

"What's with the smiles?" I ask as we exit Garreg Mach.

"Artorias, do you know what she just gave you?" Charley asks.

"A comeback alive gift."

"Yes, but why was it a white garland?"

"Because Honora likes white flowers. I don't know, and what's wrong with you? You look like you're burning up with the fever." I ask Annette.

Annette's face is burning so hot you could probably cook on it. She shakes her head back and forth, and clears her throat. The only time I've seen a girl blush this much is when they are having wondering thoughts.

"It's just…she gave you a white garland, and it's the Garland moon." Annette studders.

"She's asking you to consider courtship! How do you not know these things?" Felix bellows out.

"Why would she want that? We've only known each other for eight years."

"Artorias!" Dorothea exclaims.

"What?"

"You're telling me that you've been around this girl for nearly eight years, and you haven't even acknowledged the fact that she may have feelings for you?!"

"Dorothea, I am not a very cultured man. My mother taught me to fight, hunt, cook and kill. She didn't teach me about Fodlan culture, and she didn't teach me about courtship. Besides, Honora is Rhea's top advisor. Peace and violence don't mix."

Dorothea's face shrivels up with frustration that it looks like she is pouting. She knows what I'm saying is true, but Dorothea isn't the one to take no for an answer. Especially when it comes to the concept of finding love, and all that stuff.

It never crossed my mind to consider the girl teaching me white magic as a partner because I wasn't the nicest when we first met. I didn't talk much, and when Honora would try and talk to me, I would just sit there quietly. My opinions of white magic weren't very high, and the fact she was an expert at it drove a wedge into my heart. That was until Honora saved the life of a dying student, and she refused to accept anything in return.

"So where are we heading?" Charley asks.

"Castle Gaspard. There's a village we can duck down in before going out and engaging." I reply.

"What if the enemy is there?"

"Then we are humble travelers looking to rest our weary heads." I answer Felix.

He sighs under his breath and shakes his head. "Oh, lighten up Felix. You'll get a fight. That much I can promise…"


	9. Chapter 8

The weather has drastically changed since we left the monastery. The clear, blue sky has been replaced with a dull, grey sheet. Huge chunks of black cloud blot out the sun and choke every beam of light trying to shine down. I reach into my side satchel and pull out a monocular.

Since we're going for a subtle approach, it would be best to see who's down there in that village. I angle the monocular up and examine the village closely. Men and women dressed in dirty wool clothing are causally going on about their day. Children chase one another between houses and around the outskirts. Unless we are dealing with insurgents, there's not a solider in sight.

"What do you see?" Felix asks.

"People. That's about it."

"Great. That means we're lost."

"No, that means the enemy has something planned."

"Planned? What do you mean planned?"

"I don't know. Let's go find out." I reply as I fold the monocular up and stow it away.

Annette spurs the horse, and we continue onward. Lonato's army isn't here, but they were. Otherwise, Byleth wouldn't have told me to come here. The church was expecting them to set up, and we'd engage on an open field. However, that doesn't seem like a good move on Lonato's part. If I were trying to lead a revolt, and it was nothing but small beginnings, then fighting an army head on wouldn't be a good idea.

The six of us enter the village and press forward. There hasn't been any destruction to the area. Nor do any of the villagers look oppressed in anyway. However, they do seem to be unnerved by something. That army, or a portion of it was definitely here.

"Can we help you?" One of the villagers ask.

"Yes. We're making our way to Rowe, and on our way, my friend here said he saw a group of people with weapons and armor. What's going on?"

"Oh, that. Well you see, there's this lord that's been going around and recruiting people to join his cause. The man didn't say why, but he's planning on going to Magdred. If I were you, I'd stay away from that place."

"Well we certainly will. Thanks for the advice."

"Safe travels." The man says.

Annette spurs the horse, and we continue through the village. Charley and Felix follow behind us. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. The quickest way to Castle Gaspard is through Magdred. Although I don't know all the details, my intuition tells me that Lonato wanted the church to come check on this village.

Civil unrest and rebellious lords normally tend to generate a lot of controversy with Rhea. What Lonato wanted was to try and get Rhea to divide her forces. If there were insurgents present at that village, then they would relay a message to those men at Magdred, and they'd commence an ambush on the forces traveling to Gaspard.

The problem is Lonato didn't factor in a man whose entire life has been steeped in the art of ambush and espionage. Although he's going to get a jump on the church, we are going to get a jump on Lonato's army.

"What now?" Charley asks.

"Lonato is setting an ambush at Magdred way."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because Lonato was wanting us to announce the church's presence to those villagers. There is more than likely a scout and messenger observing that village. Once we get into the trees, we'll break and head for Magdred."

"I just hope we aren't too late." Mercedes says.

"Well I guess the three of us will have to have a race to get there in time. Hang on!" Charley states as he clicks his tongue and spurs the horse.

Mercedes grabs a hold of him and hangs on as the horse throws all of its weight on its back legs and prepares to burst into a full sprint. I roll my tongue and let out a distinct whistle. My horse ascends from a walk into a trot as she builds up speed.

"Let's go!" Felix yells as he snaps the reins.

Magdred isn't too far away. In fact, it's closer to the monastery than Gaspard. It doesn't make sense though. Why would Lonato launch an attack this close to Garreg Mach? Even if he was able to successfully defeat the knights of Serios, he wouldn't have much time to safely retreat back to Gaspard. Nor would he have time to recover the dead. This whole ordeal seems off.

The solid dirt below the horse's hooves quickly turns to black slop. Water from the puddles splash all over my plate leggings and stain the horse's legs and body. Annette gasps from the sudden impact of sludge. She groans in disgust as she looks down and tries to examine her pant legs.

"Ah, and I just cleaned these this morning!"

"Focus Annette!" I say as I guide the horse around a collapsed tree.

"Sorry! I just got side tracked!" Annette takes a deep breath and retakes control.

Charley catches up and sticks to my right while Felix rides to the left. Up ahead is a thick cloud of mist. Fog radiates off the surrounding ponds of swampy water and forms a barrier that completely engulfs the road and surrounding area.

"Stop!" I say in a voice loud enough everyone nearby can hear me.

The haze quickly swallows us and blots out the ability to see anything within a close proximity. The silhouettes of gnarled trees and black curtains from eroded crevices lie in front of us. Traveling any further by horse could pose a threat to the ability to remain undetected.

All of the horses ease further into the fog. I pull back on the reins and bring mine to a complete stop. The only thing I can hear are the horses snorting, and the air whistling through the barkless trees.

I throw my leg over the horse and carefully slide off. The mud below cushions the sound emitted from my landing as I lead the horse down a worn trench. I can barely see over the peak, so this should be a good place to hide them. Charlie and Felix get off their horses and follow.

"What's the plan?" Charlie asks.

"We're going to hit their reserves. Once they've been dealt with, Lonato won't be able to call for reinforcements when Byleth arrives."

"That's if they haven't arrived yet." Dorothea states.

"We should have at least half an hour ride on Byleth and his army. Which means we have a third of that time to cripple any reserves."

"Why can't we just rejoin the knights and fight the army head on?" Felix asks.

"Do you want to win this skirmish or not?" I retaliate.

"Yes! I just don't understand why we are relying on an underhanded tactic! There's no honor in it!"

"I think Lonato planning an ambush on the knights of Serios in a god forsaken swamp is cause enough for doing a surprise attack." Charley says.

"But that just makes us savages just like them!" Felix rages.

"I hate to break it to you kid, but war isn't fair. There's no honor to be had, and no glory to revel in. There's either victory, or defeat." I state as I climb out of the trench and pull Annette up.

Charley holds out his hands and helps Mercedes out of the muddy pit. Felix climbs out of the trench while Dorothea sighs and attempts to slide off. Charley holds out his hand and Dorothea grabs a hold of him.

"Thank you, Charley."

"You're welcome."

I ease through the thick fog and use the trees for concealment. The smell of wood and oil burning fills my nose. I hold up my hand and everyone comes to a stop. Up ahead, there are tree stumps covered in wood shavings. Although they aren't visible, the enemy is nearby.

I drive my boot into the crook of a tree and throw myself up. The ground disappears, and the kids below are quickly overtaken by a solid wall of haze. Orange light pulsates all over the area as my head bursts through the thick, white ground. That has to be where the enemy campsites are.

"three… four… five." I silently count the glowing lights.

Although we have an exact location of each campsite, there isn't any way to predict how many of them are lying in wait. My guess is most of them will be patrolling around the road through Magdred. I scale back down the tree and drop to the ground.

"What did you see?" Charley whispers.

"There's an enemy camp up ahead. We'll use the fog to our advantage and take that one out."

I carefully place my steps and creep forward with extreme precision. Charley and Annette stick close to me while Mercedes and Dorothea follow Felix's lead. The crackle of wood popping in a fire catches my attention, and I immediately stop. A couple paces up ahead is the orange glow of the enemy camp. I examine the area and see what can be utilized.

There's a handful of limbs that appear to branch over the camp. To my left is a slab of rock, and to the right is another trench that's been washed out. I get closer and quickly look the area over. There is a burrow that tunnels into the ground. Probably the remains of what used to be an old fox den.

"Mercedes, I want you and Annette to take up a position up by this rock with Dorothea. Felix, you post up across behind that tree. Charley, come with me." I whisper.

"What are we doing?" Felix asks.

"I'm going to draw their attention and retreat to that fox den over there. When they start their pursuit, I want you and Charley to circle around camp from opposite sides and pick off anyone that stayed behind. If there's more than three, don't attempt to fight. Just hold that position. Annette, Dorothea and Mercedes, stay behind that rock and don't attack until I deliver the second blow. Once we have everyone outside the camp killed, we'll move in and finish off what's left."

"Can do." Dorothea replies.

Charley sticks close to me as we creep closer towards the campsite. I direct Charley to a bush that offers a fair amount of concealment and is out of the way for when the chase starts. Charley ducks down behind the patch of ivy like foliage and pulls his hammer out.

All the objects the students are hiding behind disappear from sight as I climb up a sturdy tree directly in front of the fox den. Most of the branches on this tree aren't thick enough to support weight without flexing in some way, and the only one that is thick enough hangs far too low.

One branch barely rises above the fog below, but the moment weight is placed at the end, it will bend far enough that it's going to dip down where someone can see it moving. Judging by the circumstances though, there isn't much of a choice. Being too low will get me spotted, and there won't be a way to see anything if the branch is too high.

I carefully move halfway down. The branch tries to sag, but the tree itself is preventing it since it's fairly close to the base. I look down and take a headcount of how many people I can see. Four are sitting around the campfire, while two are patrolling the edges.

Most of them are dressed in regular leather armor and armed with dull swords and worn spears. None of them are wearing any kind of plate mail or iron armor. However, that doesn't include the plus eight rule when dealing with armies. Four extra men wearing armor and four extra weapons. Which puts the total around fourteen.

I unsheathe my sword and examine each man carefully. None of them have a horn to signal for trouble, so it shouldn't really matter who I pick.

I select the man patrolling the part of camp that's nearby the tree I'm standing on. He's close enough that I don't have to move further out on the branch and risk being spotted. The guard makes his pass and turns his back to me.

I bend my knees and jump off the moment the branch flexes up. The extra momentum propels me up into the air at an angle. My weight pulls me back down, and the tip of my sword breaks through the lingering cloud.

The black steel catches no resistance as it slices all the way though the man's rough, leather armor. The tip glances off a rib bone and changes course as it exits out of his chest. He stops walking and touches around the wound. The man lifts his hand up and tries to make sense of what just happened. The cut was so clean that he didn't even feel it.

I jump up and spin in midair. The black steel exits the wound, and a red line travels behind as I plant my boots on his shoulders. The weight shoves him down to the ground, and I ram my sword right where his heart is. His deathly gasp is muffled by his face being buried into the ground, and the others are completely unaware of what just happened. I carefully pull the sword out and flick it in the direction of the camp.

Droplets of blood dot the side of a man that's sitting at the fire. He stops his conversation and touches his face. A red streak splashes at the base of their feet as they try and figure out what just happened. I hold out my stained sword as everyone looks in my direction. The man finally catches on to what is running down his face.

"You son of a bitch!" He yells as everyone draws their weapons.

I flip my sword upside down and take off through the fog. The sound of the men running after me trails behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see that all but one is chasing me. He is kneeling down and examining the dead man. Judging by his reaction, he must have known him on a personal level.

I drag my sword across the ground and rake it over rocks as the haze completely engulfs me. Dull pings from the steel bouncing off the rocks echo off the trees. I drive my hand into the edge of the trench and wedge myself into the fox den. Mana flows into my left palm as it rests against the roof of the burrow.

The small vibrations given off by the steps give me an indication where the men are at. They are heading straight in my direction. I place the end of the sword on the packed earth and angle it in the direction the vibrations are coming from.

My hand violently shakes. I make a final adjustment and thrust the sword up. The dirt splits in two, and the blade punctures something on top. Someone screams in pain, and a violent quake rattles my entire body as he falls to the ground.

The hiss of fire waving through the air pierces my ears and someone else hits the ground. I grab the edge of the trench and pull myself to the surface. The one I stabbed through the ground holding a bloody nub and rolling around. The one behind him turns into a pile of ash as fire streams out of Dorothea's hand. I spin my sword around and stab the man on the ground in the chest.

Annette crosses her arms over her body and unleashes a spell that strikes an enemy in front of her. The blade of air cuts through the man's armor and leaves a massive gash across his chest. Blood jets out of the open wound as he falls to knees and dies. That's four out of the theoretical fourteen dead.

Sparks from metal scraping against one another flash in the distance as Felix is engaging someone. The girls and I rush back in the direction of the camp. Felix is having a duel with an opponent wielding a spear while Charley engages an axe wielder.

The man swings his axe but Charley weaves in and out of the attacks. The attacker brings his axe around his head and swings it in a wide arc. Charley takes up a power stance and grasps his hammer with both hands. The beard of the axe traps the hammer, but Charley shifts his weight and pushes forward. The man is thrown off balance and Charley uses the leverage of his handle to slam the man into the ground. He gasps for air as Charley lifts his foot and stomps the man in the head.

Felix tries to slash his opponent, but he jumps out of range and thrusts the spear forward. The wings on the shaft prevent Felix from blocking it, and the edge knicks him in the stomach. Felix grinds his teeth in pain, but he drives his sword into the man's throat and kicks him off of it.

"Spear wielding bastard." Felix groans as he touches the place he got hit. Although it wasn't a deep cut, it was more than likely a rough one. Felix probably felt the spear snag the skin and pull when he got hit.

Mercedes summons a white spell within her hand and places it on the wound. Felix tries to hide the fact it hurts, but the sudden gasp from the magic filling the gash and stopping the blood flow overpowers him. Mercedes removes her hand and gives Felix a big smile, "See? All better now."

"Yes sire Felix. All better now." Dorothea giggles under her breath.

"Shut up." Felix snaps at her.

Charley and I secure the perimeter. It appears our little skirmish hasn't attracted any attention, but that doesn't mean we're out of the clear. I give a signal to form up and we press on towards the road that leads through Magdred. There are so many spots one can launch an ambush.

The dried-up creeks that snake through dense foliage, inclined slopes that branch off the sides of the road, the tree tops. With the right mindset and training, this really could be the end of a small army. Especially if the attacker knew the terrain. Due to the lack of people using these power positions though, it appears they're just going to block both sides of the road and charge in at once.

I motion for everyone to stop, "Wait, do you hear that?"

Everyone stops and tries to listen. The crinkling of a lighting spell being cast sputters off through the fog. I listen closer, and realize that it's not a spell. The lighting is somehow radiating from within the metal and charging the grain within. I get on my stomach and slowly crawl forward to the edge of some crippled fern plants.

Charley lays completely down while everyone else crouches. To the east, I can see a dull green color bobbing through the fog. Several other people are following directly behind him. Further off in the distance, the sound of the grain in the sword charges up as it rakes against a sheathe. A sudden flash of gold zigzags back and forth.

Sounds of flesh being cauterized and blood sizzling travels to me. That's the sound of one thing, bitter annoyance. Reluctancy to leave the bushes fills my heart. I'd rather listen to one of Rhea's teachings or Hanneman's lectures on crests than spend a any time around her.

"Those gold flashes…That must be…"

"Catherine…" I interrupt Felix with a disappointed sigh. "Let's move ahead of her and flank the enemy around back."

I sprint ahead and keep an eye on Catherine's glowing relic while trying to check for any potential ambush sites. The elevation starts to change as we progress further ahead. We're traveling up what appears to be a huge hill that overlooks the area Catherine is in.

Flashes from the sword indicate that her, and the others are engaging the enemy. The huge blade suddenly vanishes, and only the tip flashes when it's raised above her head. They must be in a gulley.

Lonato's plan finally comes together in my head. He was using some of his men as fodder to lure the knights into a gulley. Lonato knew someone would be using a relic, and due to the radiance and power being emitted, it would be enough to act as the beacon to commence the main attack.

That's why he chose Magdred. The fog would conceal his forces, while revealing ours. There won't be any way for me to fight the advancing forces and watch the kids at the same time, but if I can divert their attention, it will halt the ambush and allow Catherine and them to push up.

A group of at least thirty plus men are marching in the direction of the gulley Catherine is in. I push up and take cover behind a nearby tree. The kids ease up and hide in various locations around me.

"Charley, I need you to hit one of those men up front. It doesn't matter who it is."

"Can do." He replies as he pulls out his sling and loads a rock.

"I'm going to openly engage once Charley hits his target. I want all of you to attack whenever possible and retreat back into the fog before following up."

"We're outnumbered though! At least five to one!" Annette states.

"Good odds for any knight." I reply as I grab my sword.

Charley steps out from behind the tree and twirls the sling around his body. I rush across the dirt road and use the trees as concealment to get as close as possible. The hum of leather whipping through the air constantly builds up until it can't accelerate anymore. Charley releases and sends the rock flying.

I charge out from behind the tree and close the distance on the back. The rock strikes a man in the front row, and he collapses. I run my sword into the back of a man and channel some mana into my right hand.

The ringed steel within the contraption extends out of my forearm. I clench my fist, and swing to the right. The phantom dagger catches the neck of another person standing right by me. Blood pours out as he coughs and grabs his throat. His axe falls into my right hand. I swing it around back and drive it into the shoulder of someone in front of us.

The axe cleaves its way through his body. He screams in agony and falls over. I've remained as silent as possible, now there's no choice but to go loud. The attention on the man up front shifts to the back. I kick the man off my sword into the group and reach around for the claymore.

"We're being ambushed!" Someone within the group yells.

I pull my claymore out and deflect an incoming blow aimed at my chest. Another rock strikes the man that just attacked me while a gust of fiery wind consumes another small group. Felix and Charley both rush out of the bushes at the same time.

Another ball of fire hits another solider while Charley brings his hammer down on top of a shield. The leather covered wood explodes into pieces as the man falls to the ground. Felix runs his sword through that man's chest while Charley spins his body around.

The head connects with another attacker. The impact caves the man's chest in and sends him rolling across the ground. Felix engages with a sword wielder while Dorothea, Annette and Mercedes put their skills together and launch these massive fireballs infused with white magic. The spells push the group back and allow me, Charley and Felix to collect ourselves and prepare for another attack.

"They're pushing us towards the ambush site! If we lose anymore ground, then this fight will be over!" Someone within the group yells.

I put my sword up and firmly grasp my claymore while Charley and Felix follow behind me. The group is desperately trying to fan out and gain some kind of ground. Felix takes the left, Charley charges right and I rush up the middle.

The crackling of thunder rings out, and the men in the very back turn around. Catherine, Byleth and the rest of the class flank them. Now they are dealing with us on one side and Byleth on the other side. The lighting within Catherine's weapon charges up, and she unleashes a huge bolt of lightning that turns everyone it hits to dust.

An iron sword bounces off the claymore as my swing breaks the defender's guard. The tempered steel rips through the armor and severely injures him. I bring the sword back around and ram it into the ground. The blow from an incoming axe slams into the claymore. I ease up on the tension, and let the axe's momentum spin me around. The sweep hits him in the leg, but comes to a stop.

The claymore wasn't able to cut through the bone, but it's broken for sure. He drops the axe and grabs his leg. His weight, and the fall pull my claymore out of his eviscerated leg as he tries to crawl away from me.

The depth of the cut, and the location of the blow is far too serious for any kind of healing or improvised surgery. Not to mention that part of his leg bone has broke through the skin. He'll be dead in a couple movements, but as of now, the searing pain he is feeling must be horrific.

"Please… leave me be…" He begs as I drive the claymore through his chest and pull it out.

"William! Damn you! Damn you, and the entire church!" A voice with a heavy heart screams out in anger.

I drag my left foot across the wet ground and flip forward. The shaft of an iron spear drives itself into the blood-soaked mud. Sounds of swearing come out of the man's mouth as I safely land right beside Byleth.

The man that tried to backstab me is desperately wiping the mud I tossed in his face off as he spits and babbles in frustration. His white hair is stained with dots of wet dirt. That must be the Lonato fellow. He gets his face cleaned off and scans the crowd. The fire within his eyes grows as he focusses on one particular person.

"Oh, so it's you. Thunderstrike Cassandra."

"The only name I go by is Catherine." She replies as she holds up her sword and wipes the blood off on the fur of her gauntlets. The old man twirls the spear around with one hand and braces it across his back.

"You're going to pay for what you did to my son, and my army."

Catherine brings her sword around and runs her down the blade in an arrogant manner. His teeth grind to the point of breaking as anger deep from within his soul fuels the hatred on his wrinkly face, "There's nothing that's going to hide you or the central church from real judgement." Lonato states as he thrusts his spear towards Catherine.

"Then allow me to give you a taste of my judgement."

She blocks the attack, and the two engage. Everyone backs off and keeps an eye out for any stragglers. Charley is examining a soldier that has a side satchel. His curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the flap.

The tightly packed satchel pops and spits out hundreds of papers and envelopes. He shields his face and swears under his breath as unopened letters and papers filled with anti-church propaganda flutter through the air. I snag one of the papers out of the air and examine it.

"This is you, this is us. Surrender and die." The words on the paper say. I'm assuming the markings on the map are supposed to be Garreg Mach in the middle, while the x's and o's represent Lonato's forces. This is certainly a scare tactic.

There's no way Lonato had enough men to completely surround the church. What he was probably hoping to achieve was successfully killing Catherine and as many Serios knights as possible with low or no casualties.

Once that's been achieved, he could set up around the outskirts of Garreg Mach until his reinforcements came. That's if he had any to begin. Still, it's worth bringing up to Rhea when we get back.

"Hey Artorias! Look!" Charley says as he holds out a letter addressed to Lonato, and the western church.

"Oh boy. We're never going to hear the end of this when we get back." I state as I glance up at the fight going on in the back ground. Each time Catherine blocks an attack, the stone within the sword's pommel turns red. I listen closely in between the blows Catherine and Lonato trade.

Each time Lonato strikes Catherine's blade, the energy sounds as if it's being transferred to the stone, converted and sent back to charge the sword. That's going to be worth noting when I see Hanneman. To me, it seems like the Crest on the person is what activates the stone. Self-explanatory, but is the energy within Catherine's blood being drawn? As in, her blood possesses a pure energy that prevents her from turning into a black beast?

I'm not the expert, but if that's the case, then there's got to be a way to combine an enchanted stone with a weapon and use the person's ability to cast black spells as the catalyst. Anyone can learn a basic spell. If Hanneman could find that missing link, then we'd be that much closer to our goal.

Catherine's sword completely turns gold. Each one of the prongs spit out yellow lighting. Lonato backs off and lunges forward with his spear. One of the prongs emit a powerful bolt that strikes Lonato's iron spear. A massive thunderclap erupts, and sends off a huge shockwave that rattles the ground.

"Well this fight is over." Charley states as he covers his ears.

Catherine's sword triples in size as she jumps up into the air and swings. Lonato tries to block, but the lighting slices clean through the metal shaft of the weapon and strikes his armor. A massive pulse of lighting surges through his body, and he falls. Lonato's arms spasm as he rolls around uncontrollable.

"Christophe, I'm sorry…" Lonato sputters as the wind carries the ashes of his body off.

The element with the blade subsides and Catherine puts her sword away, "what do you have their trainee?"

"Something you aren't going to like." I say as I hand the letter to her.

Catherine's eyes scroll over each word. Her faces starts to turn red and her grip around the paper tightens to the point the letter crimples up and smears the red wax seal around the bottom sentence. I knew I should have just hid the letter, or gave it to Byleth and have him tell Rhea. Now, it will be time for which I must prepare for one of Catherine's rants.

"Who do they think they are? Making threats against Lady Rhea and Garreg Mach!"

I click my tongue, "Western church. Say, aren't they the sister church?"

"We are nothing like them!"

"I'm just checking. You know, an old heathen like me doesn't understand. I find it strange that both declare faith in the same goddess. Yet neither church can agree on Sothis' teachings. Tell me Knight Cassandra, it isn't possible Rhea could possibly be wrong, is it?"

"You better shut your mouth Artorias!" Catherine snaps as she points her sword at me.

"I'm just seeking knowledge and wisdom from the holy one. My soul would ache with centuries of agony if it turned out our precious Lady Rhea happened to be wrong."

"The only reason I haven't cut you down is because Honora holds you in high regard. Otherwise, you'd be dead."

"If you say so." I half-heartedly reply as I motion for Charley to gather some of the propaganda as evidence. We got to take something back. Otherwise, Seteth might accuse me of not doing anything.

Catherine and Byleth are conversing back and forth over the letter as I bend down and help Charley pack up some of the papers. The mention of an assassination attempt from the western church keeps emerging from the both of them.

"Hey Artorias. What do you think about this whole ordeal?" Byleth asks.

"It's just another stupid argument over what color the trees are."

"You could take your job a lot more seriously, you know!" Catherine shouts.

"Catherine, what day goes by that Rhea doesn't receive a threat from some fanatic or cultist in the west? It's a daily thing, and we'll do what our daily duties; observe and report, patrol the grounds and keep the areas of interest safe."

Charley traps a laugh in his throat and glances over at me. I can tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he desperately wants to know why the both of us despise being around one another. Until he asks, I'm just going to stay quiet.

Charley clears his throat and takes a deep breath, "Are we done here?"

"You and Artorias are dismissed. I'll see you back at Garreg Mach." Byleth replies.

"What about the kids you sent with me?" I ask.

"They can ride back with us." Byleth answers.

The quick realization that I'm taking advantage of this dismissal clicks within Charley's head. He takes off running and catches up. We make our way back to the camp we cleared out earlier and use it as a beacon to guide us back to the horses.

"So that woman back there. She's got a Charon crest." Charley states.

"A what crest?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot. You don't know much about Fodlan history. It's the crest that allows her to use the thunderbrand relic. My grandparents used to tell me and my sister stories about the ten elites."

"What made them so elite?"

"My papa told me that they were just ordinary people like us, and that the goddess was so impressed with their skills, that she bestowed crests and relics upon them to help ward off the evil gods, but once the threat was gone, the ten elites joined the fell king, and they turned on the goddess."

"Did Zando have anything to do with this fell king guy?"

"Oh yeah! That place you saved me, that was actually a site where this massacre took place! It's rumored that the fell king killed the goddess there, but those that survived the attack came back and killed him. Therefore, that's how we are still here. That Catherine woman has the thunderbrand relic, so that's how I knew she was from the Charon bloodline."

"Well that explains why her ego is as big as her mouth." I state.

"What is with the hostility between you two?" Charley chuckles.

"I see the world one way. She sees it the other, and it drives her mad that I have a different opinion."

"Have you two ever tried talking about it?"

"It wouldn't do no good. You couldn't pay us to sit in the same room with one another." I answer.

The horses from earlier are still in the trench where we left them. They haven't moved. Nor have they been tampered with. I climb up the muddy, gold horse and seat myself while Charley steps into the stirrup of one of the black horses.

"Hey Charley."

"Yes?"

"You did good out there. If it wasn't for all of you, this mission would have probably been a failure."

"Thank you Artorias."

Charley and I take off in the direction of Garreg Mach. Despite this victory, the next couple of months are going to be rough. With that assassination threat against Rhea, the entire monastery is going to be on high alert. Which means high security areas like the goddess tower, and the holy tomb will be open for patrol. This may offer a chance at getting something Hanneman can study.

I'll bring it up to him, and we'll discuss a course of action. If things play out right, I can get down into the tomb and steal a crest stone…

End of the Garland Moon Arc…


	10. Chapter 9

I place my legs apart from one another and stretch to the point that I'm nearly touching the ground. Charley watches in astonishment and attempts to recreate what I am doing. A look of horror fills his purple eyes. He throws his hands out in front of him and tries to push himself up. His body is almost aligned with his knees, but it seems he can't go any further.

"Artorias…I think I'm stuck."

I swing my legs around and lift myself back up. Charley's arms are locked up, and he can't seem to push up. I place my hands on his shoulders and push him. Charley leans back and falls. A sharp pop erupts, and he grunts in pain. He folds his left leg up and constantly rubs the inside of his thigh rapidly.

"How do you do that?" Charley asks.

"Years and years of practice. You okay?" I reply as I help him up.

Charley skips around and tries to smother the achy feeling out. I cross my arms and stretch them as far apart as possible. The fibers within my body loosen up, and a calm numbness temporarily fills my entire body. Everything is all limbered up. Charley finishes his stretching and jumps a couple times to get his blood flowing.

"So what are we doing today?"

"Your evaluation said you needed to work on balance." I answer as I strap my sword onto my hip.

"Alright? So what's first?"

"Come."

Charley and I make our way down to Garreg Mach and towards the stables. There's a couple of unused pails, a rope and some brooms with the heads snapped off. I pick up some of the pails, a broken broom, and the rope.

"So exactly what are we going to do?" Charley asks.

"You'll see."

I throw the pails and broom handle over the wall and scale up to the top. Charley paces back and forth in deep thought. It seems he doesn't know what to do. I drop down to the other side of the wall and toss the rope over.

"I'm glad you brought the rope, because there was no way I was going to be able to climb this."

The slack in the rope tightens up, and the full extent of his weight braces up against the wall. I place my feet at the foundation and act as a counterweight. Charley grunts and gasps as the rope swings back and forth.

I'm certainly going to have my work cut out for me with this boy. He's got no sense of balance or agility whatsoever. The weight from the rope disappears and I fall back. Charley has both of his arms wrapped around the wall. His boot scrapes the top and slides off. He takes a deep breath and tosses his leg up again.

Charley's breath is strained to the point that his tongue droops out of this mouth and sways back and forth. He works himself to the top and drops down. The moment his feet hit the ground, he collapses and rolls all the way down a steep incline.

"Charley!"

"I'm okay." He chokes. Charley stands up and brushes dust and bits of grass off his clothes. "It's a good thing I didn't wear my armor today!"

I roll the broom handle and pails down to him and jump. My feet land at an angle as the steep dirt tries to give away. I tuck my head, roll forward and jump again the moment my knees bend. Charley gives a round of applause as I pick the stuff up.

"Where are we going?"

"A walking trail where you can practice on your balance." I answer.

We get off the grass and back onto a path that will take us to the walking trail. The place will be good for a beginner to start shaping his balancing skills. As Charley gets better, I'll take him to other places around Garreg Mach to help perfect this art. Today's training is to evaluate how good his balance is, and explain how to get better.

The trail cuts into a small forest filled with cedar trees. Up ahead is a wooden bridge that crosses a gap filled with smooth rolling water. The guard rail is thin enough to test balance, but wide enough for someone who's never done this to get a feeling for what's to come.

"Here we are." I say as I walk down to the river and fill the pails about three quarters full.

"Alright. Now what?"

"Watch closely."  
I run the broom handle through the pail handles and climb on top of the guard rail. The broom handle rests across my shoulders. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and slowly place one foot right in front of the other.

The pail to the left starts to weigh heavy while the right one tries to throw me off balance. My body shifts right to help compensate. The water within the pails stop sloshing around the moment I find balance. The urge to stop takes over, and I open my eyes. The tip of my right boot barely dangles off the corner of the guard rail.

"Wow…That was awesome! You did that with your eyes shut! How'd you do that?" Charley cheers.

"By achieving balance." I step down onto the bridge in one fluid motion. None of the water spills over despite the fall.

"So… I'm guessing I have to do that?"

"Not with your eyes closed." I reply as Charley and I head back to the other end of the bridge. "The objective is to cross the bridge without falling or spilling any water."

Charley climbs up onto the guard rail and sits on his knees a couple moments. He attempts to stand up, but he violently swings his arms around. "You're okay Charley. If you fall, I'll catch you. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Nothing to be afraid of." Charley repeats several times as I hand the pails and broom handle to him.

He places it on his shoulders and looks down at his feet. Charley takes a step, and the pail to the left overtakes him. The sudden shift causes him to dive off. I grab a hold of Charley as the pails of water spill all over the both of us. River water stains the front of my shirt, while the water streaks through Charley's pink hair.

"Cold!" Charley squeals as he hops around in shock and tries to rub some warmth into his scalp. He finally calms down and takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry Artorias. I'll try and do better next time."

Charley grabs the two empty pails and goes back down to the river to fill them up. I was going to let him use the other two. That way if he messed up again, we could both walk down there, and I could explain what he's doing wrong. Charley returns with the water and runs the broom handle back through the handles.

He hops back up on the guard rail and makes another attempt. I hand him the pails, and he slowly tries to stand up. The water whips back and forth and forces him to sway around.

Charley wobbles around and takes his first step. I hold my arms out to give him the security that I will catch him if he falls. The pails swing in opposite directions and force Charley's waist to twist. His next step scrapes the right side of the railing. The left pail takes advantage and forces the right pail off the handle.

I reach out and grab Charley. He lets go of the handle, and the pails fall into the water and begin to float down the river.

"Get them!"

My head breaks the surface of the icy water. Every part of my body bursts into flames as the river stabs and pokes me with hundreds of needles. A massive splash erupts from behind. I reach out and grab the handle and one of the pails. Charley grabs a hold of the second pail as it sinks below the surface. I quickly toss the handle and pail to the river bank and pursue the other one.

A quake comes out of nowhere and hits Charley in the face. He spits and coughs as he violently rubs his eyes with both hands. The pail submerges beneath the water once again. I dive under and feel around. My head hits the rocky, river bed. Now the chances of finding it is slim to none.

My chest starts to seize up so I swim back to the surface and catch my breath. Charley is nowhere to be seen. We were able to recover one of the buckets lost, but that isn't going to explain what happened to the other one. What am I supposed to say when I get back?

That I was training Charley and one of them went missing? It's bad enough there's no money involved with my commissions. The only way to pay is for them to take a portion of the rations away, and I can barely get by as it is.

A fist emerges in front of me the moment I consider what to do in terms of food. Within a clenched fist is a handle that connects to something below. Charley bursts through the surface of the water. Streams of water jet out of his nose as he shakes his head back and forth and curses.

"AHHH! That water is damn cold!"

I swim over and wrap my arm around his chest. He's definitely got the pail because the weight of the water inside is offering resistance and drag as we wade over to the river bank. Charley climbs out with the pail and throws it over where I placed the handle.

"You saved me from having to pay out of my commission. Thank you."

"I maybe clumsy, but never count me out." Charley smiles.

I step up onto the river bank and sit down beside Charley. He takes a breather while I dwell on tonight. Because of the assassination threat against Rhea, the entire monastery is going to be on high alert.

Byleth said he would inform us of our objectives when the time comes. They think the plot is going to happen tonight because it's the Rite of Rebirth or some nonsense like that. I was planning on us learning some white magic with Honora today, but since she's the top advisor, she's been in constant prayer and preparation for this moment.

Hopefully Byleth chooses to patrol the holy mausoleum tonight, and he takes me with him. As of now, Charley knows nothing about my goal, and it would be best if he didn't. The less people that know, the better.

"Well, I'm ready to go again if you are!" Charley says.

"Then let's get to it."

We fill the pails up and head back up to the bridge. Charley hops up on the rail while I mount the pails back on the broom handle and hand it up to him. He takes a deep breath and stands up slowly. The weight of the water barely causes the pails to flail, and immediately, he's having problems again. Charley stands as still as he can and lets the swinging pails come to a stop.

"Progress." I say.

He sees an opportunity to move and seizes it. The transition of the first step from his left foot is smooth and balanced. He brings his other leg around, but it clips the back of his left ankle. The sudden movement causes the pails to fling themselves around. Charley jerks his weight in the direction of the bridge. He has already lost his confidence. Charley chunks the pails in the direction of the bridge and falls towards me.

Metal clangs and rattles as water seeps through the wooden boards under our feet. I break Charley's fall and help him stand back up.

"Damnit!" Charley shouts as he paces around and tries to regain his senses.

"Keep it together son." I state.

"Yeah. You're right."

I sit down and rub my face in frustration. Not at Charley, but myself. I reminisce about the past and try to remember how mother went about this. At first, she was very strict and punishing. It got results, but that's because I was only learning enough to avoid any kind of punishment.

When the time came for the push to excel at something, I didn't want to because I only did enough to get by. There wasn't any motivation to press onward. Avoiding the punishment took priority over learning from the mistakes.

That's when she realized what she was doing wrong. She didn't punish me harshly anymore, but the criticism and consequence for failure came more out of a maternal love. Now a similar situation has introduced itself to me.

If I'm too harsh, Charley won't learn anything, but if things are too relaxed, then he won't have that extra motivation to rise above the challenge. What to do, what to do.

"Artorias?"

"Yes?"

"May I be able to make a request." Charley says.

"What is it?"

"Instead of having me walk on this bridge, why don't you draw a line on the ground and have me walk on that until I develop the skills required to carry the pails. Then we can move on to the bridge. That way I won't misplace my confidence when the time comes to walking across the rail."

"You know, that's a great idea."

"Thank you Artorias. Now, let's get to that training! I have a bridge to cross someday!"

Charley's glowing smile gives me hope as I pick up a broom handle and draw into a flat patch of ground. It never occurred to me to do things like this. The way I was raised, it didn't matter how difficult it was, the training had to be completed to progress.

This was one of the first tests I was given, and there was no steady build up or moving on until it was accomplished. Charley fills the pails back up as I run the broom through the handles.

"Alright! Third time's the charm!" He cheers.

"In terms of tempo, you want to try and move fast enough to get across quickly, but slow enough to keep the water from rolling around and breaking your balance." I state as I walk beside him.

He places one foot after the other. The pails swing back and forth and his foot lands on the line crooked. Charley overcorrects and steps off the line completely.

"The issue I'm noticing is you're getting too far ahead of yourself. Planning the next couple of steps are essential, but planning too far ahead will result in overconfidence, and the objective shifts to getting there as fast as possible rather than how you're going to get there without hurting yourself. However, most of the water didn't spill out, so you are learning how to use the waves to counteract the sudden shifts in weight." I critique.

"Yes Artorias."

Charley turns back around and walks the line again. He tries to keep his feet as straight as possible, but every other step prevents him from being perfectly aligned. His left foot clips the back of his leg, and he stumbles forward. Charley catches himself without my help and rebalances himself.

"I have to admit, he's going to make a fine knight someday." The sarcastic voice causes Charley to turn his head halfway through a step. The left pail overtakes him, and he ends up dropping the broom handle.

"What's he learning after this? Armor polishing?"

I remain quiet and try to avoid confrontation. It's in her nature to cause trouble with me, but I won't hold it against her since that's probably the way she was raised. Being a noble with a major crest.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"What do you want Catherine? I'm in the middle of a session." I calmly reply.

"Lady Rhea said it's almost time for the rite of rebirth to begin. Go grab your armor and meet your master in the Golden Deer home room."

Catherine looks over at Charley and laughs under her breath, "You know, you should be in the academy. You might actually learn something there."

"There is more to life than war, Catherine."

"You hear that kid? Your master is weak. To prove my point." Catherine grabs a hold of her relic sword and pulls it out. "Draw your weapon Artorias."

"We've already been through this."

"Draw your weapon."

"I only draw when I intend to kill."

"Coward."

"Don't confuse wisdom with weakness." I answer Catherine's insult.

She puts her sword back and scoffs at my response, "both of you are needed at the monastery. Patrols are going to start soon." Catherine states.

She turns her back to us and heads back to Garreg Mach, "Charley, isn't it? If you ever grow bored of this nonsense, you're always more than welcome to come train with real knights."

Charley remains silent as Catherine takes her leave. We empty the pails and gather everything up. Although it would be better for him, I'm glad Charley rejected the offer. Otherwise, he'd be in-doctorated with all that chivalry nonsense and crest stupidity. I may not be the best teacher, but at least Charley's going to be allowed to have his own opinion.

"Artorias?"

"Yes Charley?"

"Why aren't you a knight?"

"There's several reasons."

"Have you ever wanted to become one?"

"Why would I? That way I can use my power to bully and oppress others into submission?"

"What do you mean?" Charley asks.

"If I went to a village with a group of loyal knights, and told the people they had to provide for us regardless of whether they wanted to or not. Those people would have no choice because I have the church behind me. Now Rhea hasn't ever encouraged or endorsed this kind of behavior, but it does happen, and because there's so many knights under Rhea's control, it would be impossible for her to find the actual offenders."

"I see your point." Charley states.

"I was taught that the pursuit of glory will only be rewarded with anguish. I've seen people destroy the lives of their loved ones as well as themselves in the pursuit of power. That's why I don't desire knighthood anymore."

We return to the stable and put the equipment I borrowed back in the stable.

"I'll meet you at the front gate." I say.

Charley nods and heads down into the village to retrieve his armor as I walk back to my house. Hopefully, I will be selected to patrol the mausoleum. If not, then I'll have to figure out a way to leave my post and sneak down there. Which shouldn't be too difficult.

On the front door of my house is a note;

_If you have any findings that may further my case study, be sure to bring them to me_

_Hanneman_

The top of the letter I within the word "_if_" has a unique flared look. It looks more like an arrow pointing up to the roof. I turn around and look up. Right where the roof folds back towards the house, there is a small black bag dangling from a piece of rope. I fold Hanneman's letter up and grab the black sack.

The rigid, scale bag has been stitched out of wyvern hide. Golden, silk cords pinch the fabric shut. I pull them apart and reach inside. Paper crimpling around rattles as my fingers catch an edge of another letter;

_This bag is useful for storing __**Enchanted Jewelry**__. If someone were to put a __**magical**__ item within this, not even a trained __**magician**__ would be able to detect it._

This bag must be able to hide the aura crest stones can emit. It didn't cross my mind that somebody like Seteth will be snooping around while this is going on. Especially once the ritual is over.

I head into the house and gather my armor up. A lot more is having to go into this than originally planned. It would be easy if Rhea didn't keep inventory of everything down there. Once Rhea catches on that one of the stones are missing from the mausoleum, the entire place will go on lockdown until it's found.

Which means we'll have to figure out some kind of cover story if I choose to carry on. If not, then I won't be able to go back until the next rite of rebirth. That will result in me having to find someone with a relic and either killing them for the stone, or stealing it.

I put my armor on, mount the claymore on my back and lace my sword to my hip. Tonight will be the determining factor on whether or not Hanneman's research will continue or come to another abrupt halt. Either way, the most cautious approach is going to be the best.

If there's no way to get a stone out without going into lockdown, then it won't be worth it. Hanneman getting caught with a missing crest stone will result in his death. If that happens, then there will be no hope for the future…


	11. Chapter 10

Garreg Mach's front gate has been sealed shut. Anger and frustration come out of a familiar mouth as the voice yells at the guard on top of the wall.

"I told you I'm an apprentice under Artorias! Now let me in!" Charley yells.

"Get lost pink haired whore boy!"

"Open this gate now!" Charley makes an insulting gesture and rapidly pounds the solid chunk of metal with a closed fist. "Artorias! Tell this bastard I'm with you so he'll open the goddamn gate!"

"The boy is with me! Rhea wants to see him!" I yell back.

The gate immediately opens the moment I mention Rhea's name. Since Charley is wearing a different set of armor, they wouldn't let him in.

The metal plating on both the leggings and breastplate have been engraved with gold lining that forms a lion bearing a shield. Elegant fabric and expensive leather have been dyed a deep, royal blue color.

It looks very similar to the armor worn by the royal guard of Faerghus. There's no telling how much that cost him because it's only offered to nobles that qualify to be royal guard. There's only two ways Charley could have gotten that armor. One is killing someone or stealing it, but I doubt he would go out of his way to steal or kill. The other method would be best if I kept it to myself.

"Nice armor." I causally say.

"Thanks."

"Where'd you get it?"

"I've been talking with the magistrate's daughter. Apparently, he used to be pretty high up in Faerghus before he retired. Anyway, her dad can't afford to send her to Garreg Mach, so I offered to buy his old armor if it fit." Charley states as he pulls at some of the loose-fitting parts.

"You'll grow into it. Looks nice though."

"Thank you."

The local magistrate used to be royal guard? Which means he has to have some kind of crest, and possibly a relic. You learn something new every day. I dwell on the subject and try to think. The temptation to infiltrate his office and steal whatever he has tries to overpower me, but I can't bring myself to do it.

Although it would be an easy theft, there's no guarantee he has something with a crest stone. Plus, Charley would receive the blame because of his relationship with the magistrate's daughter. He also mentioned that him and this girl are talking. Whether that means casual talking, going out and eating lunch every day or sneaking out after sundown to lay by the lake, she's going to get the impression he used her if something happened.

Hordes of knights patrolling the monastery are everywhere. We're not even halfway to the actual church, and there's so many. I wonder how many sentries are going to actually be inside the ritual room itself. Probably double the amount I'm seeing now.

Charley takes the lead and pushes the door to the golden deer classroom open. Byleth is sitting on his desk with a whetstone and sword. Claude and Ignatz are filling their quivers with arrows while Marianne practices a couple of low key healing spells. Lysithea and Hilda are casually watching Marianne as Lorenz and Leonie spar with one another with a couple of broken spear shafts.

"Glad you could join us." Byleth says over the sound of stone grinding against his steel sword.

"Glad to be here." I reply.

Charley sits down with me in the very back of the classroom. Byleth puts his sword back in his sheathe and stands up. Lorenz and Leonie stand at attention and everyone in the room goes silent. The board in the back of the room has designated groups for patrolling the monastery.

With what I see, Charley and I won't be inside the mausoleum, but watching over a hidden entrance to the west of Garreg Mach. We will also have Hilda and Raphael with us. I quickly form a plan and evaluate it from every possible angle.

Byleth, Claude, and Lorenz will actually be in the tombs itself while everyone else will be covering some kind of angle. There's one problem, but if played right, it will go away fairly early once the real job starts.

"Here's how this is going to happen, if you see anything suspicious, do not hesitate to investigate. This is a class six threat, and everything will have to be treated as an engagement."

"What's class six?" Charley whispers.

"Means all the knights are on the verge of having a breakdown because they think someone's going to get Rhea." I reply.

"Well the wages don't come out of nowhere." Charley chuckles under his voice.

Byleth points at the designated squads on the board, "this is who you will be partnered with, and where you will be positioned at."

Hilda and Raphael join up with me and Charley while everyone else forms their squad. Since we have the longest walk, I waste no time in moving out. Hilda and Raphael collect their weapons and quickly follow. The area we are being tasked with is surrounded by dense foliage and tree canopies. If anyone wanted to get into the tomb undetected, that would be the place to go. That's if they could break the white magic seal leading inside.

"How have you been Charley?" Raphael gleefully pats Charley on the back.

"Oh, I'm doing pretty good. How about yourself?"

"I'm doing fine! How's training?"

"Artorias and I have been working on balance. Since that's what your professor said I needed to work on."

"Well if there's anyone that knows a thing or two about balance, it would be Artorias." Hilda states as she throws her axe into her back scabbard.

"What do you mean?" Charley asks.

"Didn't you know? Artorias can climb the goddess tower from the base up in full armor and nothing but his hands."

"What gives you that impression?" I ask.

"I'm just saying. The one time I seen someone climbing the goddess tower and running across the church, he was wearing armor identical to yours."

"Well you must have been intoxicated and roaming around after curfew." I reply.

"Well let's just meet in the middle and not tell anyone about any of this." Hilda giggles.

"Agreed."

That was a close call. Hilda knows about me sneaking out at night. Although she probably doesn't know what my motives truly were. However, I know she likes to sneak out of her dorm at night and go binge drinking with some of the noble girls from the blue lions' house. Which is a contributing factor to why she's lazy and inconsistent with her school work and personal life.

The soldiers on the wall open the front gate and let us out. We stray off the road and head west towards an old cemetery. Streams of red, yellow and green flowers line the paths that snake all around the plot of land. Huge tombs and grave markers carved out of white marble and granite stretch as far as the eye can see. The sinking sun bathes the area with a gold color as overcast shadows grow in length with their outstretched bodies.

Charley, Hilda and Raphael spin around in shock and awe as they gaze upon the hundreds of thousands of people that have come and gone. Charley strays off the path and approaches a random grave. Hilda and Raphael follow him. I come to a stop on the path and wait.

"That is a lot of people that didn't make it." Charley states.

"And this is only for the church of Serios. This isn't including all the soldiers that have died from all three countries." I say.

Charley and Hilda bend down and examine the gravestone closer. A grimacing look comes over both of their faces as Charley's finger traces down the rough, granite stone and spells the name, "_Roger Amber_" out.

"This guy wasn't much older than me…" Charley says as he does some quick math. "Yeah, he was sixteen. Barely one year older than me."

"So… is this what it means to be a knight?" Raphael asks.

"He was so young. Wouldn't that boy have had a family?" Hilda questions.

"Everyone's got a family. No matter how old somebody is." I answer as we press onward towards the lookout point.

"Artorias?"

"Yes Hilda?"

"Why do things like war happen?"

"Greed. Glory. Power. People unable to step back and look at the destruction caused. Whether it be from ignorance or blind hatred. Nobody wants to look at the bigger picture, or the scars people are potentially left with."

"Is there ever such thing as a justified cause for war?" Raphael asks.

"Depends on the situation. If people are openly being oppressed, or if someone is threatening to take something by force rather than giving compensation, then war can be justified. Doesn't mean it's the best thing to do, but it is the right thing if there are no other methods of achieving peace."

The kids dwell on what was just said as I think upon it myself. Was it the right thing to say? My whole life, I was raised to fight, kill from the shadows and sabotage anything that was bolstering the enemy.

However, that knowledge was only passed down to me under the condition that it only be used as a last resort. The wisdom came with the price of constant ridicule, persecution, and disrespect from any knights within Fodlan.

Despite this, I was also taught that fighting isn't always the answer, and that anything can be achieved peacefully as long as fair compensation is given, and it's something everyone can benefit from.

"So where is this place?" Charley asks as he places his hands on his hips and takes a breath strained with fatigue.

"Somewhere around here." I reply.

"So we're lost?"

"I didn't say I didn't know."  
I place my feet at the base of a tree and throw myself up onto a branch. To my left is a clearing that's got a low number of trees and shrubbery. "There." I point.

Charley acknowledges that he heard me and motions that they are moving into position. I hop over to the next tree and press onward from above. In the middle of the clearing lies an old well that's got a lot of overgrowth.

Twisted vines wrap all around and burst through the cracked, sagging stone that once formed the foundation of this watering hole. There doesn't seem to be any kind of manmade damage done to the outside of the well itself, but that doesn't mean anything.

"I was expecting something a little more extravagate. It being an entrance to Rhea's home." Hilda says.

"Subtle is sometimes the best." Charley states.

Raphael examines the well closely and tugs at the rope. He pulls it up and shakes his head. "You know, I may not be the smartest man at Garreg Mach, but I do know that this rope has just been braided. There's no pail at the end either."

"Which means if this place was truly undisturbed, then the rope would have been frayed." Hilda says.

"Excellent observation Raphael." I say as I place my head into the well.

Charley motions for everyone to be quiet as I listen. There isn't anyone lying in wait at the bottom. However, there has been some kind of recent activity because the mana in my body can faintly sense the flickering of flames off in the distance.

"Do you think you can fit Raphael?" I ask.

"I sure hope! If not, then I'll have to force my way in!"

"That's what donations to the church are for." Hilda sighs in disappointment.

I climb up onto the well and grab the rope. The braided fiber spire glides through my gauntlets as the descent snuffs out any visible light given from above. My boots hit a puddle of water, and the sound of splashing echoes down through the stone room and corridor. The cold, shapeless void is interrupted by a couple of set torches at the end of the hallway.

The massive doorway blocking the entrance into the tomb has been opened. The glimmer of a broken white seal spits out sparks that temporarily illuminate the area. Which means that whoever opened them must be from the church. Either Garreg Mach or the western church.

Wait… Western Church? Assassination attempt? Something isn't adding up though. Even if someone from the western church was able to break the sealed doors, someone with extensive knowledge of Garreg Mach would have had to tell them about this specific place, and that it was sealed with a specific white spell.

Say it was coincidence that there just happened to be a special practitioner of white magic with this group, but for someone to make it this far and this fast isn't possible. There has to be a rat within Garreg Mach.

Charley lands first and steps out of the way. Hilda climbs down, and Raphael slowly follows. Everyone forms up behind me, and we press down the narrow hallway. The tight corridor restricts the ability to move effectively. Hilda mutters something under her breath and tugs at her back. The handle of her axe is clipping the roof of the tomb, and it's holding everyone up.

Charley takes his hammer off his back and carries it in one hand while Raphael crouches down and slowly eases forward. His shoulders are gently brushing against the damp walls of the corridor. Hilda gets her axe worked out of its scabbard and holds it off to her side.

The end branches off in two directions. To the left is an actual tomb covered in dust. The right leads to another long corridor lined with torches. Green flames hover above the charred bark of some unknown wood.

Chills travel down my spine as the color of our shadows change from black to white. Raphael looks to his left and stops out of utter shock. He lifts his arm up and makes a motion the shadow mimics. He flexes his arms and forms a power pose.

"What kind of place is this?" Raphael asks.

"A cursed one." I reply.

"Superstitious?" Hilda teases.

"Shadows aren't supposed to be white. Nor is fire supposed to be green."

"It's because of the light given off by the torch. The bark from ethereal wood burns so bright that it eliminates the shade within the color black." Charley says.

"Ethereal wood?" Hilda questions.

"Yeah. It grows in patches around Zando. Because of its fast growth rate, both Garreg Mach and the Western Church generously use it for ceremonial cremations, rituals, and other religious practices because of how long it can burn. It can also turn metal to ash."

"I never heard about this. How do you know?" Hilda asks.

"My grandpa used to travel to Zando and illegally haul Ethereal logs for the Western Church. A small jar of ethereal sap alone would pay a knight's monthly salary, so you can imagine what an actual tree pays. When he retired, my father carried on the tradition, but he realized that there were people other than the Western Church that would pay for the wood, so he started selling it overseas and to wealthy individuals all around Fodlan."

"So that's how these churches are so wealthy. Receive donations from the three countries as well as harvesting ethereal sap and wood for a nice little side profit." I state.

"That's how my family made its living. They cashed in and made their own empire out of it." Charley adds.

"That day at Zando, was that what the money was about?" I ask.

"I don't really know. I was told I'd see my sister again if I helped deliver the convoy. She's the only reason I agreed to the damn job in the first place!" The chuckle within Charley's gut quickly fades away and his face sinks into an anxious grin, "I really hope she's okay." He whispers under his breath.

A bright glowing light illuminates the wide-open room in front of us. Pillars sprout from the grey film of thick dust that has collected on the ground. More green torches burn around the massive room. This must be the main crypt. Sarcophaguses forged out of gold and stone coffins bearing the faces of wyverns are spread all over the place.

I drop to the ground and slowly crawl over to the ledge. People are conversing back and forth about crest stones and breaking seals in order to obtain the treasures within. Charley and Hilda hit the ground and slowly make their way over to me while Rapahel crouch walks over.

I slowly poke my head up and observe the room. Several men and women dressed in garbs decorated in religious symbols are scattered around the crypt. Some are yanking open coffins while others patrol around.

One woman pries open a gold sarcophagus and examines the bones within. She reaches into the skeleton's chest cavity and pulls out a rock like object. Another man across from her rips open a tomb and pulls another rock out of a skull. In the middle of their small group is a black bag similar to the one Hanneman gave me. They both put the stones within the bag and continue on with grave-robbing.

My eyes trace over what looks like a black horse dressed in heavy armor. A curved blade attached to the end of a metal staff dangles by the horse's side. Sitting on top of the animal is someone dressed in dark, grey armor. With where he is positioned, the shadows give his armor a pitch-black color. A pair of jagged horns burst out the top of a wicked looking helmet. Eyes the color of bloodlust radiate within the human skull shaped mask.

"Look!" Hilda points to the main entrance of the tomb.

Claude, Byleth and Lorenz make their way towards the stairway leading down to where the thieves are at. The horseman lays eyes on Byleth but remains quiet. Byleth grabs Lorenz and Claude by the collars of their armor and shoves them behind a casket that's already been raided.

Two of the patrols are headed right their way. One is headed straight for them while the other is jumping distance from where I'm at. Byleth pulls his sword out and crosses the weapon over his chest. There isn't really much time to form a foolproof plan.

"Charley, I want you to lead the others down to where Byleth's squad is at."

"Wait, what?" He asks as I leap up onto the ledge and get ready for Byleth to make the first move.

The steel tip pierces the white garb of the man rounding the corner of the coffin. Red streaks down the front of his clothing. Byleth shoves him off the end of his sword. I drop down from the ledge towards the man underneath me. My elbow connects with the back of his head as I place my weight on his body.

The force from the fall transfers over to him as we both hit the ground. None of the bones felt like they broke, nor was the fall high enough to inflict any serious damage. If anything, it's disabled him for the rest of the engagement. I roll off and dive behind a nearby pillar.

"It's the knights of Serios! Hurry up!" Someone yells.

"You're going to have to stall them! The seal on the main sarcophagus isn't broken yet!" Another voice shouts.

"Death knight! Do something!"

"I have no interest in crossing swords with such weaklings." Skull face replies in a deep, monstrous voice.

Good. In the time it would take me to knock you off that high horse of yours, the stones would have already gotten away. I peek out and try to figure out a way to approach. Everyone looks like they are some kind of mage, cleric or archer.

Which means fighting from a distance and using the environment as cover would probably be the best approach. I engage the safety lever on my right gauntlet to prevent it from deploying when the mana channels into my palms.

"Look out Artorias!" Charley's voice warbles from above. He emits a squeal of regret and fear as his cry grows louder.

Charley's body drills into a woman rushing directly towards me. The impact knocks her hat off and she rolls over. Charley fails to catch himself and tumbles out into the open. Claude checks to make sure it's clear and vaults over the empty casket. I break out from behind the pillar and dive beside Claude.

Charley looks back and suddenly scrambles up to his feet. An arrow strikes the ground in front of him. The momentum from the forward motion causes him to trip over his own feet. He hits the ground and crawls to me as quickly as he can.

"Oh, move over, move over, MOVE OVER!" Charley frantically chatters.

Another arrow flies through the air and glances across his lower back. Charley yelps in shock as Claude and I grab a hold of his arms and yank him behind the casket.

"Am I bleeding? Am I bleeding?" Charley lifts his backside up and pats around.

"Easy now! You're okay!" I reply.

"You weren't the one that nearly got shot in the ass!" Charley hysterically replies.

"That's because I thought ahead!" I state.

Claude pulls out an arrow from his back quiver and notches it into the draw string. He pops up and releases. I don't think he hit anything, but the look on his face ques me in that he's got someone ducking. I hop over the casket and press up to where Byleth is crouched.

"Artorias, do you think we can make it over to the other side?" Byleth asks as he wipes his crimson stained blade with a rag.

"Get me some suppression, and I'll be over there shortly."

"Then let's get to it."

I ease up to the edge of the casket and peek out. Arrows and orbs of magic fly towards us in every direction. Only a couple have actual weaponry. Which means we close the distance; the biggest threat is going to be daggers and sticks.

Charley lines his sling with a small piece of shattered pillar and gets to waving it around his head. Claude notches another arrow and rearranges the positioning of his fingers. The grain within the wooden shaft flexes to the left and curves back around to the right as it leaves the drawstring.

His arrow flies through the air in an arc. The fletching sticks out from around the corner, and the body of an archer falls out into the open. The arrowhead is sticking out the side of the man's head as he hits the ground.

Charley builds up as much speed as his sling can and releases the leather catch. The chunk faintly whistles through the air. The jagged marble hits an archer's bow directly in the middle, glances off and strikes a nearby mage in the chest.

The entire body of the bow snaps in half, and the tension from the draw string causes the bow to fold back. Hardened oak strikes the archer directly in the face as the drawstring whips him across his knuckles. He grasps his face and dives behind a pillar as the mage collapses to the ground in agony. It didn't break the skin, but it fractured something within his body.

"Two idiots, one stone." Charley taunts as he ducks back down behind the casket with Claude.

Now is the time to move. Byleth and I rush across the open to the other side. He slides behind a pillar while I vault over the caskets and press forward. If that sack of crest stones get away, then all of this will be for nothing.

Skull face seems completely unmoved by this entire ordeal. He has barely moved, and his horse is completely oblivious to the chaos that is going on. Which is a good thing. He looks like he's going to be a bit tougher than all the bandits and mercenaries I've come against so far.

Claude hits another archer while Charley kills a mage. Raphael, Hilda and Lorenz slowly push up and make their way to the people with the crest stones. No matter what, I have to get them before anyone else does.

Byleth moves up and makes a break for the mage at the main sarcophagus. I rush back over to the left side of the mausoleum and gain the lead on the sack of crest stones. The group notices that we are closing in and scramble to sack up the remaining loot.

I jump up onto the casket overlooking the looters and swing my leg in an exaggerated manner. The tip of my boot drags across the face of a woman that runs into the attack. She drops the bag and scurries back the group.

"Get out of here! We'll hold them off!" A man yells as he grabs a small dagger from his belt.

Everyone that has some kind of weapon draws it and rushes towards me. I sidestep an incoming attack from a wooden club, grab the guy's wrist and trip him down to the ground. I strip his hand of the weapon and swing up. The club connects with the jaw of an incoming attacker. Hundreds of wooden splinters explode from the poorly made weapon as he hits the ground.

"It's not a fight without me!" Raphael yells as he drives his shoulder into the man in the very back.

Raphael lifts him up and bowls through him. The man flies through the air and smashes into a nearby casket. Hilda vaults over a coffin and intentionally crashes into a woman. The shoulder check knocks her up against a pillar. Hilda grabs the woman by the garb and strikes her with the blunt end of the axe. The others within the group snag the bag and bust into a dead sprint.

"Get back here!" Raphael yells as tries to chase after them.

I join the pursuit and catch up to his side. The thieves' zigzag in between pillars to try and shake us off. I jump on top of the caskets and hop the aisles. Raphael starts to fall behind as he takes the long way around the obstacles. Perfect. That means it will just be me and them.

"Hurry up!" Someone from the group yells as we get closer to the main sarcophagus.

The man at the main sarcophagus rams his hand into a crevice and tries to overload the seal. The sound of stone being smashed with a hammer floods the room, and the lid finally comes off the sarcophagus.

White light stabs all the way through the tightly weaved particles of dust. The group in front of me covers their eyes and try to ground themselves. An intense burning fills my eyes, and this invisible force throws its weight into me with so much power that it knocks me back. I wrap my hands over the back of my head and curl up as a strong gust rolls me up and tosses me around.

The people around me are screaming in fear as their bodies are being blown back just like mine. Dust from the environment fills my mouth and forces the saliva to form a disgusting broth that obstructs my ability to breathe. It feels like someone has taken a pillow and placed it over my face.

"Artorias!" I hear Lorenz yell.

Two sets of hands grab a hold of my arms and stand me up. My lungs violently rattle each time I breathe. Someone is dusting my head while the other is hitting me in the back with a closed fist. The sweet smell of frankincense permeates my nose as something soft wipes my face.

Hilda is cleaning my face, Lorenz is dusting me off and Raphael is trying to get the dust within my lungs out. I look away from Hilda and cough up a white cloud. Probably from the suet from decaying bone and cobweb.

I look around and try to figure out what happened. Skull face is nowhere to be found. He must have used the light emitted from the broken seal as cover to make a run for it. The guy trying to open the sarcophagus is lying face down several paces away. Byleth isn't far from him. Both of them are covered in a thick layer of white. The man that was trying to open the sarcophagus throws himself up on his side and staggers to his feet.

Byleth's chest presses his body up. He gasps for breath and rolls over onto his back. The man that broke the seal limps over to the sarcophagus and digs through its contents. Byleth uses a nearby pillar as leverage and climbs up.

"What's this doing here!? Where are the bones!?" The man shouts as he pulls out a strange looking object.

Dull, saw like serrations run down both sides of the object. A round hole takes form at what looks to be the hilt. Almost like some kind of decoration was supposed to set at the top of the handle.

Every hand length, there is some kind of crevice that runs from one serration to the other. Its got the color of yellowed bone. Almost like the bones that have been exposed to the environment for a long time. The whole thing looks like it was crudely thrown together and shaped into a sword of some sort.

The robber swings the object in Byleth's direction. Byleth runs his hand into the hole at the hilt and yanks the weapon away from the grave robber. He drives the back end of the handle into the man's face and flips the sword around. Red immediately pulses within all the deeply carved crevices of the weapon.

Energy from Byleth's body transfers over to the weapon and blows all the white suet off his body with a small, concussive blast. He looks at the man that tried to hit him and slowly approaches with the weapon raised.

"Hey now…Let's not do anything we might regret…" The man begs as he holds his hands out in front of him.

Byleth slashes downward at an angle. Red veins sparkle within a black imprint that trails behind the blow. Blood spews out of the guy's chest, and he drops to the ground.

The spectacle of Byleth's new sword has everyone in awe. All this time, I've been serving someone who has a crest and doesn't abuse it? What a surprise. However, there's something wrong. How is he using a relic without a crest stone? Everyone, even the thieves are conversing back and forth on what we just witnessed.

That round indention by the hilt must have been where the stone was originally set. Byleth shouldn't be able to activate the weapon's power without a source. Catherine has a stone set in her sword, and so do all the nobles. If that stone is removed, the weapon should be useless.

Wait…The stones! I look where I last saw the bag. Those that aren't dead are running off with the sack of stolen loot. I take off and pursue them into a nearby tunnel.

"Let it go Artorias! They're useless without a relic!" Claude's fading voice bounces off the walls.

I got to make it fast. Otherwise, the cover story won't work. The last person of the group rounds the corner to the left. I throw up my hand and catch the surprise dagger jab directed for my chest. The man's wrist shrivels up into a misshaped ball as it swivels within my hand. I grab him by the throat, and slam him into the floor.

He slithers around and tries to get away from me. I place my boot in the middle of his back and pin him down. The man squirms around and cries out for help as I pick up his dagger and press the tip into the back of his neck. He stops moving and tenses up.

"Give me a crest stone, and the rest is yours." I say.

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

I move the dagger where his shoulder blade is and lightly press. The tip breaks the surface of his white garb and pokes through the skin.

"Okay! Okay!"

He reaches into his sack and hands me the first one he grabs. I take the stone and place it into the black bag Hanneman gave me. It's not a perfect fit, but it is enough to draw the cords all the way shut.

"Now get out of here."

The man wastes no time in running off. Now there is a cover story that some of the thieves managed to escape with a couple crest stones. Rhea, and the church won't rest until all of them are recovered, but it should buy Hanneman some time.

I'd say this job was a success. Although Byleth and his house won't get a bonus since some of the stuff went missing. Not to mention, he'll probably be tasked with recovering the stones, but it is what it is. That new sword can be a consolation prize for the failure tonight.

I make sure the black bag is tightly cinched and hidden within my side satchel. Once it's in Hanneman's hands, we'll have to figure out what the next step is. Studying a crest stone a couple doors down from Rhea's throne room wouldn't be an ideal place.

"Artorias!" Charley's voice yells from my left side.

He makes his way over to me from one of the branching paths within the tomb, "Did you get them?"

"No. They managed to get away."

"That's too bad. I guess." He sheepishly replies.

"It sure is."

His answer to my statement concerns me. Did he manage to see me let that man go? If so, he may have seen me take a crest stone. If that's the case, then I may have to make Charley disappear. Hopefully it won't come to that. Maybe he can be bribed with something. If not, then there won't be any choice.

The both of us make our way back into the main mausoleum. Catherine, and some of the knights have arrived with reinforcements. They are rounding up the survivors and placing them within shackles.

"We're going to need the cart." Catherine says to a couple knights standing guard.

They salute her and exit through the main entrance. The cart means only one thing. I pull out my claymore and examine it closely. The blade is still structurally sound, the edges are razor sharp, and I can see my reflection in the tempered steel. Perfect.

"I heard you took a shockwave to the face."

"Knocked me clean off my feet too." I reply as I turn around.

The first thing that catches my attention is the unique, amethyst colored hair. It's the same color as her eyes. The black dress she wears under her dull green overcoat exposes the somewhat curvy nature of her chest. Charley is trying to keep from staring, but his eyes keep making passes over her body. He turns around and covers his eyes with his forearm.

"Your eyes just kind of get lost. Don't they?"

"Shut up Artorias!"

"Well at least he has the curtesy to try and be a gentleman about it. My name is Shamir."

He puts his hand behind his back, and tries to reach for her arm, "Charley."

"I'm not going to get offended if you look. Keep in mind, I have to work with male students on a regular basis. So people cast their gaze on me all the time." Shamir says as she grabs Charley's wondering arm.

"Careful now son, Shamir's a temptress. It's part of her plan to dress like that." I tease.

"Hey now, you know magicians aren't supposed to talk about their secrets in public."

"What do you mean part of her plan?" Charley asks as he looks into her purple eyes.

"A man without a fortified mind is stupid. Shamir has the ability to acquire information, and execute anyone dumb enough to try and exploit her simply by using her appearance." I say.

"So, you pose as a courtesan?" Charley asks.

"Doesn't mean I am one, but yes. Men that have been away from home for a long time tend to get lonely. So I come in and use their feelings against them. Once they let their guard down, that's when they get the knife." Shamir states.

"And she's good at it. Most of the time, I have to steal information, or beat it out of people. Probably because I'm too ugly." I add.

Charley laughs while Shamir slightly smiles at the comment.

"So why do you only wear one metal brace on your shoulder? Is that another one of your tricks?" Charley asks as he points to the silver armor piece on Shamir's left shoulder.

"It definitely is. Only Artorias knows why though."

"I sure do, but I'm not going to tell."

The reason she's only got one shoulder guard is because most of the people in Fodlan have dominant right hands. Which means if she's facing an opponent, almost every starting attack is going to come from her left. Not only that, it gives the enemy a false sense of security since she doesn't wear much armor other than that shoulder brace. All she's got to do is shoulder check the incoming slash, and she's already won the fight.

A fellow knight approaches us and salutes, "Excuse me, but all of the survivors have been rounded up."

"Very good. We'll be there shortly." Shamir replies.

She reaches around her back and rummages around in her satchel. "You will need this." Shamir hands me a black stained face mask made of wood. The fangs have been painted gold and tipped with red dye.

"What's that for?" Charley asks as I press it to my face and lace the leather straps up.

"Rhea's judgement." Shamir answers…


	12. Chapter 11

Catherine and the knights finish rounding up the survivors and lead them out of the area. I follow Shamir up the stairs and out the front of the main mausoleum while Byleth, and the others trail behind.

"four people at a time." Shamir states.

A wooden platform suspended from chains above slowly lowers to where we are. Catherine sent it back down for us so we wouldn't have to wait. Me, Byleth and Charley get on as Shamir cranks the lever. The cogs spin and grind against one another. A counterweight starts to descend, and the platform is lifted up towards the surface. Massive chains rattle with enough force to make the walls around us quake and vibrate.

The ascension up drastically slows down as we nearly reach the top. The gears and cogs within the contraption quit spinning, and the walls stop shaking. One of Catherine's knights are waiting up top for us.

"I'll take it from here." He says.

"Thank you." Shamir replies.

The knight flips the lever and heads back down for the rest of the group. Since Rhea will be passing judgement, we'll be heading to her throne room. That's if her ritual is finally over. Normally, Rhea would want to have this done first thing in the morning, but since the crimes involved sacrilege, she's going to want the survivors out of the way as quickly as possible.

People who have either left the ritual or used the extended curfew as an excuse to stay out late are gathered all around the bridge that connects the main part of Garreg Mach to the church. Their casual conversations go from tomorrow's activities to whispers of what's currently happening. One female student from the Blue Lion's house points at my mask, and an entire group tries to engulf us. Questions of "what's going on," and "Who's getting axed," circulate throughout the various students.

"Get out of the way! Nothing to see here!" Shamir says as her and some of the knights push people out of my way.

"Hey executioner! Who's getting the blade?" Some boy from Edelgard's house asks.

The question jars the crowd, but I refuse to acknowledge their presence and give any attention that might send everyone into a frenzy. Everyone always gets so excited at the sight of my mask because in their minds, I'm displaying nobility by killing a few traitors looking to undermine the system. In reality, it's just another day on the job.

"These people are crazy. They are literally insane." Charley says.

"You haven't seen nothing yet." I reply as we head up the stairs that lead to the offices and Rhea's throne room.

The door to Hanneman's office is open. Which means he must be waiting for the news. I reach out to where his room is and rap my knuckles on the door. The sound of paper pages slap into one another, and the crisp sound of a book spine folds up. Hanneman is here. As far as how the exchange is going to go has yet to be decided. He'll probably wait outside until the survivors have been dealt with.

"You'll have to wait out here until we are finished." Shamir says to Charley.

"What for?"

"That's for you to figure out." Shamir replies as the knights open the metal doors.

Me, Shamir and Byleth head into the throne room while two knights post up outside and shut the doors behind us. Kneeling on the ground are four survivors from the tomb. Out of everyone that was captured, three of the four facing judgment are wearing special garbs and unique looking jewelry.

The fourth one barely has any kind of marking on his garb that indicates rank. Three must be leaders, and the fourth one was probably someone who caused a lot of grief. Which means the others will be interrogated for information, then exiled to Almyra or Sreng. That's if the knights don't kill them down mid-run.

Seteth is standing on one side of the group while Catherine watches the other. Several knights are placed all over the room for security reasons and for disposing the bodies in an orderly fashion. Honora is standing right beside the Archbishop. Her silver headdress and sacred linen clothing is pale in comparison of the queen herself.

Tassels stained in rare, purple dye dangle off the side of the huge headdress. Four incandescent alexandrite stones stud the tips and middle of Rhea's curved hat. Her violet religious bib is lined with a bright, yellow orphrey that helps flare out the fabric around her shoulders. The sigils and insignias on her garments have been embedded with soft, mailable gold.

Shamir stands over by Catherine while Byleth stands behind the group. I make my way to Honora's side and place the tip of my claymore into the floor.

"Lady Rhea, these people were stealing crest stones within the holy mausoleum." Catherine says.

"Some of them entered through the old well to the west." My muffled voice tries to escape through the wooden confines of the mask.

"Through the old well?"

"Yes. The magic seal on the doors were broken." I answer.

"Broken you say?" Rhea asks as she calmly looks at the group, "Which one of you managed to do that?"

Nobody in the group says a word. They continue to stare forward like they have no idea what she is talking about. Seteth and Catherine walk around the group and try to find someone to make an example out of.

Most of the people in the group look like they are around my age or older. All except one. It's the boy wearing the basic garb with no rank. He looks less like a man, and more like a teenager.

One of the knights point to the young one; "That one. He looks like he knows something."

Shock and confusion come within the group as everyone looks at the teenage boy. Just as I expected. This will be our leverage against the group. I walk over and place the tip of the claymore against his chest. The entire group erupts into a frenzy.

"Please! He's just a kid!" One woman cries out.

I press the tip of the blade through his garb, and firmly place it where his heart is. The boy inhales as much air as he can and holds it. The moment he tries to exhale and breathe, the sword will puncture through the skin, and all it will take is one swift push. He looks up to me with a face of unholy fear. Cloudy tears leak out of his green eyes as his stifled breathing forces his face to turn a bright red color.

"I'll tell you what you want to know. Just stop, okay?" An elderly voice shouts out from the far right.

I pull the sword away from the boy, and he lets out a sudden gasp for fresh air.

"Who broke the seal?" Rhea asks again.

"I don't know who exactly, but it wasn't anyone from our group. All I know is we had specific jobs, and the details of our jobs were only given to that specific person."

"What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" Seteth questions.

"I don't know. Nor do we know the names of our employers, but they told us to break open the main sarcophagus and steal whatever was inside. In exchange, they would liberate our people." The old man states.

"Desecrating the Goddess' rite of rebirth, the threat of assassination against the arch-bishop of Fodlan, and forceful entry into a sacred place puts your souls far past any hopes of redemption." Seteth says as he raises his hand.

I walk over and place the tip of my claymore on the elderly man's chest. Honora folds her hands, closes her eyes and softly prays in a language I can't understand. Her voice is drowning in sorrow, and the circumstances of the situation causes her to stutter every other word.

"I pray that these lost souls find salvation." Rhea calmly states.

"Any last words?" I ask the old man.

He looks over at the young boy, "I'm sorry this had to happen. If I would have known they were making us expendable, then I would have never taken this job. May we meet again in the afterlife." The old man says with a bittersweet smile.

Seteth drops his hand and I shove the claymore into his chest. The blade bursts out of his back, and I slide the steel out of his side. Saliva stained crimson fills his mouth as he reaches up with his bloody hand and touches the side of my leggings, "Forgive him Sothis, for he knows not of what he is doing…"

Sadness fills everyone in the group. Pleas to me, curses towards Garreg Mach and prayers to Sothis fill the room as the man falls back. A couple Serios knights quickly wrap the open wound before the blood stains the floor and carry him off to be cremated.

"Please Rhea! Have some kind of mercy!" The woman cries out as I place my sword to her chest.

Rhea remains silent and Honora continues her prayers of anguish. Seteth drops his hand, and the blade goes through. This woman was the one Charley fell on when he dove over the ledge. She didn't even have a chance to escape. The yank of the claymore causes her to slump to the side.

The next one is the boy. I clear my mind from any hesitation and place the sword on his chest. Despite this being an execution, this one is causing me problems. The way these people were willingly manipulated into doing this and being left for dead bothers me. Most of the time, I'm executing criminals who knew what they were doing was wrong. These people had no idea they were being used to further someone else's benefit.

The blade breaks out the side of the boy's back, and he looks up at me. For a brief second, my perception warps reality, and it looks like Charley. He grabs the edges of the blade and weakly tries to pull the sword out. Blood leaks out of his pursed lips and his hands fall to his side. I close my eyes, and push the blade out of his side.

"The Goddess will never forgive you for this executioner!" The last victim yells at me.

"The Goddess never had any forgiveness for me anyway." I reply as I stab all the way through his chest and pull out.

The blood of four different people drips from my claymore. I hold it out and Shamir wipes the stained blade with a clean rag. The knights carry off the last body. Honora opens her puffy eyes and let's out a breath laced with agony. It's absolute torture for her to set through any kind of execution. Especially when there's a teenager involved, but she is forced to stay because she's the top advisor.

"Your ability to grant these people a painless death is greatly appreciated. May they find peace in the afterlife." Rhea compliments me.

"Many thanks your highness. May I be excused?" I ask.

"You are excused Artorias. Thank you for your service."

Shamir finishes cleaning the blade off. I put it back in my sheathe and return the mask. Seteth wipes up a couple places that have small drops of blood and signals that the doors can be opened now that the bodies have been taken care of. The knights standing guard open the door for me.

Charley is standing over by the stairs with his sling out. It appears he is talking to someone and demonstrating how to use it. He gets the leather to whipping around his body at a rapid pace. "You can also twirl it over your head. Although it's not as accurate as the eight toss, it has a lot more power."

"I've never seen a knight use something as primitive as this." A frail, female voice says as she reaches out and grabs the leather strap.

The girl is dressed just like any other Garreg Mach student. Black uniform and skirt, golden pendant to prove she attends the academy. Two clips hold her long, hair in place as it drapes over her shoulders. The bright vibrant shade of her hair is similar to the same color as Seteth's and Rhea's. The girl appears to be nothing more than a child. She's probably a kid from someone on staff, or a stray the church took in.

The girl tries to do what Charley did, but he catches the leather and tries to guide her through the motions. "You have to do it a particular way. Otherwise, you'll pop yourself."

"Where did you learn to do this?" She asks.

"I used to be a shepherd. When you are out in the field from sun up to sun down, a quiver of arrows, and a longbow tend to get very cumbersome. With a sling, it's just a piece of leather, and a sack of stones. Plus, where there are rocks, there's always ammo."

"I see. It's more convenient. All be it, more difficult to use." The girl says.

"Some claim it's a peasant weapon, but I've run bandits and some pretty big wolves off with a well-placed shot."

Charley looks in my direction. His face glows with happiness as he smiles as big as he can, "Artorias! You're back!"

"That I am."

"Artorias, this is my new friend. Her name is Flayn, and she's Seteth's little sister."

"Hello."

"Greetings Artorias. Charley was informing me that you're his teacher."

"Yes. He is my apprentice." I reply.

"After the rite of rebirth, my brother said that he had something important to do, and that when the doors opened back up, he'd be done. What happened in there?"

"Just business involving the church. Trying to figure out what plant goes in what room. Silly stuff like that." I reply.

"I see. Well it was nice meeting you Charley. I look forward to seeing you again."

"Have a good night." Charley replies.

Flayn takes her leave and heads downstairs. In the throne room, Rhea is talking to Byleth about something. I ease into Hanneman's office and lean up against the door like I'm casually waiting. Charley is the only one that's outside in the corridor. I place my hand over my left ear and listen.

"_It is a weapon of terrifying power. For now, I am entrusting it to you_." Rhea's ruffled voice bounces off the walls.

"_Rhea! Are you seriously going to entrust…_"

"What are you doing Artorias?" Hanneman interrupts Seteth's objection.

I raise my hands and signal that I need silence. Charley creeps over and hugs the wall with me. He places his hand over his ear and tries to mimic what I'm doing.

"_If someone like Nemesis were to ever appear again, all of Fodlan would be ravaged by war_!" Seteth boldly states.

Okay good. Nothing serious. I thought Rhea was going to address the missing crest stones and put Byleth in charge of getting them back. Thankfully, it's just more myths and rambling on about ancient history.

"_Please reconsider what you are doing before we entrust this stranger with our most powerful weapon_!" Seteth begs.

"_I have faith in our friend. Nobody has been able to wield the sword of the creator since Nemesis' death. After all these years, it has made its way into the hands of a new master_." Rhea says.

Sword of the creator? If the weapon was created by a god and can operate without a crest stone, then maybe that will be worth investigating. Hanneman and I will have to figure out a way to get Byleth to unintentionally cooperate.

"Is there a problem?" Hanneman asks.

"No. There's no problem. I just figured since you've had a hard day at work, and we could go to Martha's tavern." I answer.

"Yes. That sounds quite lovely. A couple drinks should help take the edge off of work. I'll meet you there."

"Sounds like a plan." Charley cheers as he takes off in a gleeful march.

"You're a little too young for a tavern." I reply as I grab him by the shoulder.

"Oh come on! I gave you some exquisite wine at my place! The least you could do is buy me a cheap ale!"

"Fine." I reply.

Charley follows me down stairs, and we make our way towards the front gate. Now that everything is over, things have calmed down. Students are returning to their dorms before the curfew takes effect, and staff members are preparing themselves for tomorrow.

Charley looks behind his back and all around, "Why did you let that man go?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask as we approach the town's northern bridge.

"Artorias, what are you trying to accomplish? Are you working for the western church?"

"No."

"Then why did you ask him for a crest stone? You know, you're going to get yourself killed."

"That's none of your concern."

"Tell me!"

"If you must know, I am trying to help someone rid Fodlan of the crest system."

"Who and why?"

"Who isn't important. Why? Because I've seen too many lives ruined over such a trivial matter. Parents whoring their daughters off to nobles, children being bred for the slight chance of inheriting a crest, families casting their sons out. And fun fact, most of which end up becoming marauders as a result." I reply as I place my hands on the stone bridge and look out over the glistening water.

The azure moon in the sky casts its beautiful image on the sheet of flowing black below. Ripples from the rolling river cause the moon's image to wave back and forth like a banner whipping in the wind.

Charley walks up and stands beside me. Some passing people cast their eyes on both of us and whisper back and forth on what we are doing. They converse back and forth about a possible dispute between me and Charley. Which is a good thing. That means nobody heard me rant about crests, and the current system.

Charley bends over and picks up a couple pebbles. He takes a step back, skips and tosses it through the air. It skids across the top of the water and skews the perfect image of the moon. Charley lays a pebble in front of me and urges me to try. I pick it up and throw it as far as I can.

"So you can hear a pin drop three rooms away, but you can't skip rocks? Shame, shame." Charley teases.

"I wasn't ever any good at it." I reply as Charley tries to show me how to hold the rock, and when to release. He gives a demonstration once, then follows through. The rock hits the middle of the river and skips four times. Charley hands me another rock, but I try to politely decline.

"Oh come on! If you can balance across the narrow railing of a bridge, then you can skip a rock!" Charley says.

"Fine."

I get into the stance he was displaying and try to mimic the motions he went through. The rock leaves my hand and hits the surface of the water. It loses all of its momentum and sinks after one bounce.

"I'd say you have potential." Charley giggles as the both of us focus back on the water.

"You were talking about people being bred for the hopes of a crest." Charley clenches his gauntlets and takes a deep breath, "That's the only reason my sister exists. The only reason I exist." Charley points to himself.

"All that money father made from selling ethereal sap wasn't enough for him. He wanted to be actual nobility. So he paid a large sum of money for some noble's daughter. Unfortunately, neither of us bore a crest when we were given life. Father was so angry, that he sent me and my sister to go live with our grandparents."

Charley picks up his pink, braided ponytail and holds it out, "Did you know, my sister is the reason I have this pink hair?"

"I'm guessing she was the lucky one and inherited the normal color?"

"Exactly! Since she was born first, my sister got the lustrous blonde, and I got the shimmering pink!"

He sighs in disappointment and takes a deep breath, "My sister and her friends would all gather around and braid my hair, and as strange as it sounds, I enjoyed it. They'd say _'Charley, I wish I had hair like yours'_, and _'you're going to grow up into a handsome man someday.'_ They were the only friends I ever had, and I braid my hair in remembrance of them."

"What happened to your sister?"

"Father sold her to a noble family somewhere in the Leister Alliance, and I helped my grandpa herd sheep."

I knew it. Charley's father is a huge bastard. The moment I met this kid, I could tell there was something traumatic about his past. He had to live with the constant fear of being enslaved and traded to nobles just like any commoner. I'd say he was a lucky one like Leonie or Raphael, but deep down, Charley probably doesn't feel all that lucky. He probably wonders, Why her? Why him? It should have been me that was enslaved.

"As your apprentice, I am hereby asking for your permission."

"Permission for what?"

"To assist you. As someone who's seen my family sold to nobles, I can't allow you to do this alone." Charley states.

"You have no idea…"

"Artorias, my grandpa had to hold me down while that son of a bitch ran away with my sister. If anyone has any kind of idea, it would be me."

"You do realize that your life will be at stake."

Charley holds out his hand, "if it's for a better future, then I'd happily give my life for it."

My gauntlet clashes against his. He wraps his thumb around my hand as we give each other a strong shake, "Then may my blood bring forth a new dawn."

"Our blood Artorias. Our blood."

We let go of each other's hand and wait for Hanneman to show up. Immense relief feels my heart, and the soothing satisfaction of knowing I won't have to kill Charley comes over me. Every second that passed since he saw me in the mausoleum started to weigh heavy on my soul.

However, that doesn't mean he's going to have an active part in my goals. If something happens, I don't want Charley getting accused and charged since he's still a kid. If worst comes to worst though, Hanneman, Charley and I will flee to Brigid or some nearby country outside of Rhea's jurisdiction and continue our research. We got the stone, Hanneman knows what tools he'll need, so nothing is going to stop us.

Off in the distance, I can see Hanneman quickly approaching us. I do a quick scan of the area. Nobody is within earshot of us, and the closest person is someone who has just crossed the bridge.

"Artorias! How did things go in the mausoleum?"

"Pretty good. It seems our friend Byleth is able to use a relic without a stone." I casually reply as I ease the black wyvern bag out of my satchel.

"So I heard! Before I left, I asked him if I could run some tests to see how that's even possible!" Hanneman replies as he slides the coin purse open.

I make sure it's clear and make the drop. Hanneman quickly cinches the purse back up, and we continue onward like nothing even happened.

"And who is this? Your apprentice?"

"Yes. This is Charley. He was wondering if it would be possible to assist you in your pursuit of scholarly knowledge."

"If you say the boy is trustworthy, then I have no problem with it!"

"He's comes from a wealthy common family, but he knows the meaning of hard work." I reply.

"Well Charley, are you up to the task?" Hanneman asks.

"I am."

"Great! Then welcome to the family son!" Hanneman replies…

End of the Blue Sea Moon Arc…


	13. Chapter 12

The gentle wind carries small drops of rain down from the ashen colored sky. Streaks of blue and white outlined with yellow rumble within massive black clouds lingering above. Honora is sitting under the awning of the sanctuary.

Water slowly drips down the side of my face as I occasionally scan the courtyard on the other side of the bridge. The moment Charley and I arrived for our training today, people have flocked to the courtyard.

Some are doing their everyday tasks. Some are just enjoying the cool breeze and refreshing kiss of fresh rain. However, there has been one particular individual that's been following me and Charley the moment we left the village this morning. Which Charley's outdated set of Faerghus' Royal Guard armor, and his pink hair doesn't help us blend in.

That person is hiding underneath a cleric's hood, so I can't get a good look. The markings on his cloak indicate he is some kind of scribe that's been at Garreg Mach for a long time.

Charley counts on his fingers the moment a flash of lighting pulses. A dull thunderclap echoes off in the distance.

"That was almost to the count of six." Charley states.

"And if each count is five thousand paces, how far away would that be?" I ask.

"About thirty thousand. That's half of a soldier's march."

"Excellent Charley!" Honora cheers and claps.

Despite coming from a common household, the boy seems to be somewhat educated. Which is probably why he knows how to use basic education with old handmaiden's wisdom to solve problems. The rain loses most of its strength and becomes nothing more than a misty sprinkle.

"Well. It's about time to start." Honora says.

"I guess it is." I reply as I look in the direction of the particular individual.

Ever since that night I executed those people from the Western Church, it feels like this guy has been watching me and Charley. It could be nothing, but nobody could have easily broken that seal on the door because it would have been created by using a combination of Rhea's power and her advisors.

The idea that there is a rat within Garreg Mach concerns me. All I know is it must have been someone with as much knowledge in the light arts as Honora, and that's what is troubling. If it's someone just as powerful as her, then it's probably going to be someone I can't stop alone.

"What's wrong Artorias? You seem out of it today." Charley secretly hints at me to tone it down.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought I heard someone say my name." I answer.

Although he is trying to blend in with everyone else going on about their day, it's not fooling me. I wasn't very verbal about my suspicions on the traitor within Garreg Mach, but someone who has done their research knows that if they want information on me, all they have to do is ask Rhea or Seteth. Granted, they won't share everything, but it won't take a genius to figure out I'm struggling to understand white magic.

"What do you want to learn today Artorias?" Honora asks.

"Let's practice deflecting."

"Alright. Here we go." Honora states as she takes a deep breath.

"You may want to stand back."

Charley backs off, and I take up a defensive stance. This is a very bad idea. Even for me. Honora channels a small bit of mana into her hand and charges up a fireball. She rolls it around in her palm and shields it.

"Alright. Hit me."

Steam vents off the small orb as it flies through the air. I hold out my left hand and catch the ball of fire. Mana within my body absorbs Honora's attack and attempts to filter the magic. Extreme heat travels through the left side of my body. Condensation forms on the metal plating of my armor as the mana crosses through my chest and attempts to come out of my right hand.

The tips of my fingers spark and spit a small bit of flame, but I hold it in. The pain builds up to the point it feels like my hand is about to explode. The energy hits my palm and diverts itself back to the phantom blade. Gears in the contraption activate and quickly launch the ringed blade out. Every trace of pain exits my body immediately, but I collapse to my knees and fall over to my back. The mana disappears from my palm, and the blade fully retracts.

"Artorias!" Honora screams as she rushes over.

"Sweet Sothis!" Charley adds.

Honora scoops me up in her arms and props me on her knee. She fights the panic off and summons a little healing sigil within her hand. Charley takes a step back and tries to focus on what really happened. None of my body is charred. Nor did I gasp in pain when she touched me.

I motion for him to play along as Honora hits me with the healing spell. A warm presence enters my body and helps me relax. The calming sensation is almost enough to put me to sleep, but Honora's constant begging for me to stay awake prevents me from doing so. I grab my head and act like something went wrong.

"What's wrong with you!?"

"I thought I could redirect it." I reply as I feign injury.

Charley and Honora ease me up and over in the direction of a bench. Even though this was nothing more than a stage act, it should give whoever it is out there the impression that I can't use basic defense against any kind of magic, or that my skills aren't as polished as they once were.

Honora works her hand up underneath my breastplate. Her cool skin presses against the flesh of my chest. She checks for an irregular heartbeat, or anything that might seem out of the ordinary. Which nothing will be. Once the phantom blade activated, all the mana my body absorbed was channeled into powering the contraption. The rest was for show.

"Well, is he actually hurt?" Charley asks.

"His heartbeat is a little fast. Sore?"

"A little but nothing serious."

Honora places her hand on top of my head and pats it a couple times. A sharp pain runs across my scalp and echoes all through my head. Charley lets out a trapped giggle but tries to hide his face.

I vigorously rub the area she slapped me and try to work some of the pain out, "What was that for?"

"For lying to me. You said you were going to deflect, not absorb." Honora replies with a burdened smile.

She is happy, yet mad at the same time. Which is a good thing. That means the performance has been sold to whoever was watching. From that distance, there was no way they could tell that this was an act. If I were to cross paths with them in the future, I now have two free advantages to exploit.

"I'm sorry Honora. I thought I had it, and it felt like it was going to convert, but it slipped right at the last moment."

"Thank Sothis nobody was around to witness that. That'd be kind of embarrassing if someone knew you couldn't deflect or absorb mana." Charley says with a grin.

Honora helps me off the bench. I balance myself and take a couple steps with her guidance. She let's go of my arms and instructs me to walk by myself. I take off into a jog and jump on top of a nearby bench.

"Artorias!"  
"Ah don't worry Misses Honora. It's going to take a lot more than a fireball to put him down." Charley states.

I hop down and make my way back to Honora. Fun time is over. Now it's time for the actual lesson. I stand at attention. Charley has no idea what's going on, but he puts his hands together and does the same thing.

"Honora, would you be willing to share something a little more advanced? I know I have not mastered the basics yet, but I would like to see what lies ahead once I do."

"I shall honor your request."

Honora closes her eyes and summons a bit of black magic within her palm. Glowling, white lines form a bright marking that radiate with a heavenly aura. Charley watches in awe as I observe.

Honora alters the power in her body, and the sigil takes another form. Wing like indentions sprout from the marking, and she points at me. Although I wasn't in pain, a warm presence enters my body and helps me feel physically better. She summons another one and points at Charley. A small beam of light surrounds him, and the complexion of his skin glows.

"Hey Artorias! You're glowing!"

"So are you." I reply.

"How are you doing that?" Charley asks.

"Magic." Honora teases.

"Like I didn't see that one coming." Charley rolls his eyes. "But seriously, how is that even possible? I thought white magic required some kind of physical contact."

"A combination of both white and black magic. As far as how I did it, that information is forbidden to share."

"Oh, come on! Even if I had some kind of idea how magic works, it's not like I'm ever going to have your level of mastery!"

"Sorry."

"Artorias! How did she do that?"

"All you can do is seek the answer yourself." I reply.

"Always so cryptic!" Charley sighs in frustration.

"When the time comes, Honora will tell you. Until then, you will have to seek the answer yourself. Whether it be from learning white magic yourself, or establishing a sacred trust. It's her art, and she can't just pass it down to anyone." I state.

"Yeah, yeah. Otherwise, it could end up in the wrong hands."

When examined up close, it looks like a white magic spell in itself. However, it's not. White magic has to have some kind physical contact in order to transfer to the target. Mainly by placing a hand on the affected area and letting the energy flow from one body to another.

However, there are ways to manipulate white and black magic to gain the benefits of both. Honora knows this because she had to research, study, and cast forbidden spells in order to become an advisor. Now alone, Honora is not a very powerful black caster.

Her fireball couldn't burn a twig doused in oil. Whereas one of mine could torch a major city because my soul contains a reservoir of rage that's been tempered by gentle enthusiasm and fortified passion. The theory is that Honora casts a basic healing spell but manipulates the magic and combines it with her weak, black art.

When the two become one, the black art will act as the physical contact, and because it's being overshadowed by the white magic, the target suffers such a minuscule amount of damage that nothing but the healing is felt. A person like me could never really cast something like that because white magic focuses more on inner peace and selfless love rather than condensed anger and repressed hatred.

Charley paces around and ponders over how Honora cast that spell. He wonders over to the ledge that overlooks the bridge leading up to the main entrance of the monastery. "Oh boy. If this doesn't spell trouble. I don't know what does." Charley says.

His statement stirs my curiosity. I walk over to his side, and he points towards the bridge. Rhea is holding some kind of staff. A circular object is suspended above her head and his shielding her from the soft mist. Byleth, Felix and Annette are accompanying her along with this big burly man.

An orange silk scarf with some kind of leaf looking image hangs from his neck. A massive axe forged out of silver bounces around on his back as he carries a massive shield carved out of solid rock in his left arm. He had to be a baron at one time in his life because nobody is going to take the time to carve a shield out of solid stone unless there is a lot of coin invested.

"Hey Artorias. You're not expecting visitors. Are you?" Charley asks.

I hold two fingers out on my right hand, "They're probably coming to inform us of our next job."

He holds one finger up and shakes his right hand, "Well good, because I seriously didn't feel like playing hostess."

Rhea and her posse of knights make their way up the stairs. Honora greets them and honorably bows. She converses back and forth with Rhea and holds out her arm in the direction me and Charley are in.

"That one guy. The one with the boulder as a shield. He must be pretty high up in the knights." Charley whispers.

"How do you know?"

"The crest symbol on his scarf. It's a representation of the Serios house."

"Which means this guy is a hard-core fanatic." I state.

"Exactly. Pure, silk scarfs with crest emblems aren't just handed out to anyone."

Charley gives a little bow towards Rhea as I calmly wait to be spoken to.

"Artorias. How are you?" Rhea asks.

"Fine. I was just practicing with Honora."

"So I've been told, and who is this…person." Rhea asks with a confused attitude.

"This is Charley, and he's my apprentice. I saved him back when you had us clear those marauders out of Zando." I reply.

Rhea looks directly at Byleth, "Is this the one you were telling me about professor?"

"Yes."

"And is it true he uses a piece of tanned leather rather than a bow?"

"Yes."

Rhea turns around and gives Charley a nod of approval, "Your services back in the mausoleum are greatly appreciated."

"Thank you. You're too kind."

"Artorias?"

"Yes?"

"I expect you to raise this boy into a responsible man."

"Consider it done."

"As for you Charley, you've been given a great honor. Artorias has never been accepting towards apprentices or prodigies. Nor has he ever been open to the idea of sharing his immense knowledge of the sword with anyone. Yet, he sees potential within you. If you do anything that brings shame upon him, you will be disciplined. Am I clear?"

"You have my word. Artorias won't regret his decision." Charley answers.

"Excellent."

Rhea urges us to follow as she proceeds down to the bridge leading back to the courtyard of Garreg Mach. "In light of the thieves making off with some crest stones from the mausoleum, there has been yet another, more grand theft."

"A relic has been stolen by the eldest son of the Gautier house." The burly man carrying the boulder states.

"Isn't that the one kid's linage? Sylvian?" I ask.

"Yes. His brother Miklan, and a group of bandits have made off with the relic and seized a plot of land within the Faerghus' territory." The burly man answers.

"Do you think the stolen relic and stones are connected?" I ask.

"We aren't sure, but it hasn't been two weeks since the attack on the mausoleum." Rhea states.

"It is a possibility they could have been working with the Western Church." Byleth adds.

Good. Neither Byleth or Rhea have any idea. However, there isn't much time. Once this mission is over, and we don't recover the stones, Rhea will start to get suspicious and begin searching from within. When that happens, it will be a race against time to find the rat in Garreg Mach and pin them for what happened in the mausoleum.

"This is a very dangerous situation. Relics contain immense power but can bring forth dire consequences if misused. Therefore, Gilbert, Honora, and Artorias will assist you, and the prodigies with this assignment. Recover that relic at any cost." Rhea says to Byleth.

"Understood." He replies.

Prodigies? That must be why Annette and Felix are here. We don't really need them because we already have a full squad. Me, Charley, Byleth, Honora, and this Gilbert fellow. All the bases have been covered. Magic, sword, armor, healing, and anti-armor, but if this is what Rhea wants, then we have no choice but to let them come.

"Artorias?"

"Yes?" I answer Byleth.

"I want you to ride ahead with Felix, Annette and Charley. Teach them how to scout. We'll follow shortly after."

"Yes sir." I reply.

"If the report is correct, the thieves will be around Conand Tower." He says.

We break off from the group and make our way down to the stable. Conand tower isn't necessarily close. Even if we left now, it's going to be a half a day ride on the main road.

The attendants are grooming and saddling the horses we will be taking. One black horse, my gold one, and a white one. Which means someone is going to have to share.

"I want the gold one!" Annette cheers.

"Black." Felix states.

I climb up on my gold horse and hold out my hand for Annette. She grabs my forearm and places her foot in the stirrup. Annette dangles off the side for a couple seconds and tries to find her strength. Her weight transfers to her legs, and she stands up.

"Did you ever name your horse?" Annette asks as she seats herself in front of me.

"Why would I do that? It's not like the animal is going to understand." I reply.

"How could you say such a thing? I'll have you know that horses are very intelligent creatures!"

"Kid, you can't hide your anticipation. It's almost like you're glad I never gave her a name." I reply as I spur the horse.

"That's not true!"

"Well you know what? If you want to name her, go ahead!"

"Glitter! I want to name her Glitter!" Annette squeals as she pets the side of the horse's neck.

"Ok. On second thought, you can't name it." I say.

"Too late! We're calling her Glitter!" The horse shakes her head back and forth, and Annette showers it with even more praise. "See! She even likes it!"

"I'm sure she does." I chuckle and come to terms that this is the horse's name from now on.

"Who would have thought a master swordsman would have a horse with such an intimidating name?" Felix sarcastically pokes.

Charley laughs at the statement, "I guess it's more Annette's horse than yours."

"Who knows. It maybe hers someday." I reply as we get onto the main road that will take us to Conand Tower.

"Hey Felix, Fraldarius is your land, isn't it?" I ask,

"Yes."

"Anything we should be worried about?"

"Not really. My dad, the Serios knights, and the Faerghus Royal Guard have kept the roads pretty safe, but that doesn't mean something can't happen."

"Too true! Stay alert people!" Charley states.

Glitter's speed builds the further we progress down the road. Annette anchors herself into the saddle and grips the reins as tightly as she can. I spur Glitter again, and she bursts into a full gallop…


	14. Chapter 13

Conand Tower lurks within the gloomy distance. Unlike a lot of places, the tower itself is fixated within the stone wall that surrounds the area. It's more of a krepost than an actual tower. The spire's dirty, ivory covered tip skewers a black cloud flashing with thunderbolts. Dusk is quickly approaching, and the gray sky is being consumed by the inevitable darkness. It hasn't happened yet, but a major storm is brewing.

I tug on the reins, and Glitter veers off the road and into the woods. Charley and Felix follow with haste. The foliage, shrubs and tall bushes provide a natural barrier that will prevent anyone from seeing us off in the distance.

I pull out my monocular and examine the oddly shaped building. Moss ensnares the tower while green ivy peels chunks of white off the outside surface. The place looks like it hasn't been used for years. It crossed my mind that it may be part of a ploy. That the Faerghus kingdom is intentionally making it look abandoned to stockpile supplies, but that's not the case if a bunch of fools swinging sticks around can hole up in it.

"What do you see?" I ask as I hand the monocular to Annette.

She rotates it to the wrong side and presses the big end to her eye. Annette realizes her mistake and flips it back. "Ah, what am I looking for?"

"Threats."

Annette scans the area a couple times, but doesn't take into account to check the windows, overlooks, ledges, or the surrounding environment. Nor does she check for potential paths, jump spots, ambush points, or blind sides.

"Well, I only see two."

I pat her shoulder and she gives it back to me, "Felix."

He takes the monocular and examines the entire place. Felix even looks for a potential path. "four threats. Two guarding the front, and two up on the wall."

"It's Charley's turn."  
Felix hands the monocular to Charley, and he studies the tower, "I'm with Felix. Four threats."

"I spotted twelve." I state.

"Twelve! How is there twelve!?" Felix yells in a quiet voice.

"The plus eight rule." I reply.

"What is that!? I've never heard of a plus eight rule!"

"There's only four we can see in the open, but that's not including the ones that could be in the tower, or the surrounding area."

"So it's like overcounting." Annette says.

"Exactly. It's always better to overestimate than under."

"Makes sense." Charley states.

"I see now." Felix calms down.

"The plus eight isn't always accurate, but it allows you to plan more cautiously."

I slide off Glitter and help Annette down. Charley and Felix get off their horses, and we all ease up to the edge of the woods. I lay down and examine the area leading up to the tower. It's all open ground from here to there. No cover of any kind. Those guys up top will be able to see us once we leave the woods, but there are ways to overcome this.

Visibility is going to be cut in half once dusk hits, and if the rain starts, the bandits aren't going to be able to hear anything if it's hitting the ground hard enough. Right now, all we can do is wait.

"What's the plan?" Charley asks.

"It's too risky to move now. Wide open areas, and no cover. There's too many things that can go wrong if we attack immediately."

"What do you propose?" Felix eases up to my side.

"Have you ever hunted before?"

"Like wild game? Yeah. Hogs, deer, small vermin." He replies.

"Charley?"

"Not for sport, but I've tracked wolves and feral predators with my grandpa."

"Annette?"

she sheepishly presses her index fingers into one another, "To be honest…I've never been hunting..."

I lay down on the ground and wait. A gust of wind from the impending storm shakes the tree leaves, and the bushes. I carefully crawl into the foliage and ease up to the very edge of the forest. The wind stops, and I lie as still as possible. Charley and Felix are laying on the ground while Annette silently groans in disgust. Musty dirt and stagnant water seep through her clean school uniform.

Another warm blast of air rolls through and shakes the treetops again. I signal to carefully move up.

"Scouting is no different than hunting. Move too late, your chances of success are lost forever. Move too soon and your hiding spot becomes your grave. The objective of scouting is to become a shadow. Only moving when nature decides, sticking to darkness and traversing obstacles the enemy is indifferent about."

"What do you mean 'only move when nature decides?'" Annette asks.

"Using elements to mask your approach. It's suspicious if a bush moves on its own with no wind."

"I see. You're basically using nature to your advantage." Charley states.

"Complicated, but makes sense. Continue." Felix adds.

"The way people scout in Fodlan is much different than what I was taught. Usually knights ride around on horseback with banners of peace until they meet someone from the rival side. They report back to their leaders, exchange letters, make a decision and either battle it out or retreat."

"How do you scout then?" Annette asks.

"By remaining undetected, stealing information and preforming tasks that will hinder the enemy's ability to effectively fight. Even with a battalion of veterans, there is always the possibility of losing the battle or dying on the field. My job is to ensure everyone makes it back home, and the information passed down to the leaders guarantee victory."

I point back at the tower, "If the four of us rushed that tower now, sure we may win, but it's either going to get someone hurt, or even killed. Especially when you factor in the plus eight rule."

"But didn't you take out twelve plus people before?" Felix questions.

"Even if I'm taking on those twelve, what if there's another twelve around the corner? If I'm focused on standing my ground, then I can't focus on y'all."

"We aren't children you know." Felix scoffs.

"Byleth entrusted me with your lives until his arrival. Once he's here, then you can do whatever you want because your safety is no longer my concern." I sternly reply.

"Hey! You were talking about traversing obstacles! What's that supposed to mean?" Annette intentionally interrupts.

"I think it means taking the path less traveled." Charley replies.

"That's exactly what it means. Most knights are going to be wearing heavy armor, so it's uncommon for them to crawl through ditches or climb to the rooftops. As you can see, we don't have any ditches or roofs to run across. So what would be the best course of action?"

"Wait until it gets dark…then try to approach from the sides? Since there is a possibility the enemy is expecting us to come from the back?" Charley hesitantly answers.

"Well done Charley. If I could actually give you a grade, I'd give you an A."

"I think it should be an S, but an A is nice." He teases.

A flash of purple lighting erases all traces of shadows for a brief moment. The creeping darkness eats what's left of the day's light as dusk forcefully takes over the open field. Byleth, and the others can't be too far behind.

"Charley, Annette, you two stay here and wave Byleth down when he arrives. Since you seem ready to fight, how about you come with me?"

"Thank you. I've been dying for some action." Felix says.

"Don't engage unless you have to."

"What's the plan?"

"We're going to go behind enemy lines and open the front for the others. Once inside, we'll signal with a torch when it's safe to proceed."

"Please be careful." Annette replies.

Felix and I prepare to cross the open field. The plan is to infiltrate the tower from the side, and getting a rough estimate of how many bandits we really are dealing with. I work myself up into a kneeling position and grab a handful of dirt out of a puddle of water.

"When we get halfway, or you see me drop, hit the dirt and crawl."

"Alright."

I slather the mud on the polished metal of my chest piece and rub it in. Brown dirt tarnishes the impeccable shine of the steel as it seeps into the scars and forms a disgusting looking scab. A thick film replaces the cleanliness of my armor with a layer of grime.

"Is that really necessary?" Felix asks.

"If I don't want my armor to reflect light, yes."

The men in the tower's window walk out of sight. I burst onto the open field and head right. That place is the least guarded because they are expecting an attack to come from Faerghus territory rather than the direction of the Alliance. Felix falls in behind me and tries to keep a steady pace. I drop to the ground halfway across the open field and crawl. The rings of Felix's chainmail softly rattle as he hits the dirt.

A flash of lighting pulses in the sky. I stretch my limbs out and lay perfectly still as the sudden burst of light quickly vanishes. Small drops of rain bite the back of my neck as I press onward. The water quickly builds in size and falls at a much more rapid pace. My black hair sags in the front as streaks of rain roll off the drenched lochs and stream down my face.

I press my left hand against the ground and summon a tiny bit of mana. With the falling rain, it's extremely difficult to feel the vibrations from people's footsteps because of how big the raindrops are. I turn back around and motion for Felix to wait. He's far enough back that even if someone were to pass by, they couldn't spot him. With this growing storm, everyone has probably taken shelter inside.

I make sure it's clear and run up to the tower. The second-floor window isn't that far from the ground, but it's high enough that Felix won't be able to get up. I place my foot into the wall and throw myself up to the ledge. The wooden window hatch seems to have been closed due to the rain and chilly drafts.

I work myself up and sit on the ledge. The coast is still clear. I motion for Felix to push up. He stands up and rushes to the tower. I drop back down and stretch my legs as far as I can.

"Ladder." I silently mouth.

Felix holds out his hands and makes a motion that he doesn't understand. I hold onto the ledge with my left hand and motion up with the right. He silently sighs and jumps. I grab the ledge with both hands and hoist myself up as far as possible. Felix places his legs on the tower and slowly works his way up to my shoulders.

He peeks through the cracks of the wooden hatch, and opens it up. Felix slithers through the window and reaches out. I grab a hold of his hand and climb in. Wooden crates, abandoned barrels and smashed wooden boards litter the ruined floor of the tower. This place really hasn't been touched in years.

Around the corner, two men are conversing back and forth about their leader stealing the relic from his father. They go back and forth on what he intends to do with it.

"What do you think he's going to do with all that money if he finds a buyer?"

"I don't know, but hopefully after this haul, I'll be done."

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't for me. Once I get my cut, I'll be on my way."

"Well if you explain yourself, Miklan will understand. He can be a bit harsh at times, but he isn't all that bad."

Felix silently scoffs inside as we make our way down the stairs. I flick my left wrist and catch the dagger that ejects out of the hidden compartment of my gauntlet. Felix draws his sword and gets ready. I work my eyes around the corner and examine where the men are positioned.

The bandit facing us is sitting on a crate with his back against the wall while the closest one has his back turned. Both are sitting around a fireplace and discussing the possible outcomes of stealing that relic.

"I'm going to throw this at the one furthest away. When it leaves my hand, you rush the one closest." I state.

"It's not going to get me stabbed. Is it?"

"Don't worry. Honora is outside. Probably."

"More of a reason I shouldn't have come." Felix sighs.

I lean out and throw the dagger. Felix rushes out from the corner, and I back him up. The dagger strikes the man facing us in the forehead. He falls off the crate as Felix runs his blade through the other man's back. I keep a lookout while Felix lays his victim onto the floor and drives his sword into the man's head just to make sure he's dead. I yank the dagger out of the man I killed and wipe it off.

Felix lights a torch and carefully opens the door. He checks to make sure it's clear and waves a couple times.

"They should be here any moment." Felix states as he shuts the door and snuffs the fire out.

"Even though it's not over yet, you're doing a pretty good job." I reply as I put the dagger back in its compartment.

"Strong words coming from somebody like you."

"Just trying to keep morale high. Neither of us want you losing heart halfway through the fight."

Felix rolls his eyes and scoffs at my statement. Just what I was expecting. He's one of those that likes positive reinforcement, but pretends he's too good for it. It's not necessarily arrogance, but a false sense of pride.

Like he's trying to be tough on the outside, but inside, he feels some kind of shame. Felix seems like a good kid, but I wonder what caused him to swell up. It certainly isn't his noble title, because that doesn't seem like something he's interested in.

Felix points at the shadows seeping through the threshold underneath the door, "Artorias."

It's likely Byleth, but I take a hold of my sword and shuffle into an adequate striking position while Felix readies his weapon. The door opens up, and two bodies charge in. Felix gets ready to slash, but I take my hand off the sword and back off. Green mixed with pink twist around one another as Charley and Byleth realize it's just us.

"You about got yourself stabbed." Felix says as he puts his weapon away.

"Likewise." Byleth replies as he re-sheathes his creator sword.

Annette, Honora and Gilbert make their way into the tower. Puddles of water stain the ground under their feet as they gather around the fireplace and try to warm themselves. Byleth, Charley, Felix and I head up to the top of the tower while the others guard the entrance.

"What exactly are we dealing with here?" Byleth asks.

"Like any other bandit horde. Punks, thieves, people looking for a place to belong. The only real threat is going to come from potential deserters or soldiers cast into exile." I reply.

"If that's the case, treat everyone as an expert." Byleth states.

We make it to the top of the tower and spread out. Everyone takes up an observation point and looks for anything that could potentially help us. I post up next to Charley, and we scan the area to the east. There is no sign of anyone or anything. The only thing I can see is the entrance to the main quarters.

"I don't see anything. The only thing we can do is press onward." I say.

"Alright. Let me go get the others, and we'll travel together." Byleth answers as he heads back downstairs.

"So which way are we going?" Charley asks.

"I'd say east. We'll use the wall to get around to the main quarters." I reply.

Byleth and everyone else shows up. I hop out the window and roll the moment my feet touch the slippery, stone path. Byleth motions that everyone only moves when he says so. He rushes over, and the both of us ease up to where the path juts to the left. I peak around the corner and look for any potential jump spots or ambushes. The only place of worry is the second-floor entrance halfway between here, and the main quarters. Other than that, it's a straight shot.

I burst out from around the corner and push forward. Byleth motions for the rest to follow. I pull my sword halfway out and inspect the building as I get closer. There isn't anyone lying in wait. Which means everyone is inside the main quarters.

I jump on top of a murder hole and drop to the courtyard. Byleth hops over the wall and uses a wooden cart to help cushion his fall. He picks up a wooden ladder and lays it up for everyone else. Charley slides down halfway and jumps. Felix, Annette and Gilbert quickly scale down while Honora slowly descends. She isn't really dressed for any kind of combat since she's still wearing her church clothing. I reach up and Honora uses me as leverage to carefully step down.

"Thank you Artorias."  
"No time for a twisted ankle." I reply as I point to her shoes.

Why she wore her dress is beyond me. Normally, the church provides some kind of battle clothing for practitioners of white magic, and it'd be far more effective than wearing garbs from a prayer meeting or revival.

Byleth presses against the door leading into the main quarters and tests to see if they are unlocked. I peek through the gap and try to get a rough layout of the room. Byleth draws his creator sword and opens the door all the way. He leads the way while Gilbert follows directly behind him.

For the main quarters, it's got a very strange design. Where we are at, it's shaped like a soldier's barrack. Dusty tables and dimly lit torches flicker within the dark abyss. Rusty weapons, shattered armor and broken banners from Faerghus and Adrestia are scattered all over the cracked, gray floor. In the middle of the room is a stairway leading up to an elevated platform.

"What's with this design?" Charley asks.

"The platform at the top of the stairway is where the Faerghus war council would make plans. Below is where the soldiers would rest, eat, or play games until they were given orders. The last time this place was used was when some of the nobles considered invading the Leicester Alliance a long time ago. It never got approved though." Felix says.

"That's real comforting. Nice to know everyone is trying to start a war when no one is looking." Charley states.

"There isn't going to be a war. There's been conflicts, but they've been resolved within weeks." I reply.

"Still. It makes you wonder what everyone is thinking, and who is really pulling the strings." Charley adds.

Byleth and Gilbert head up the stairs while everyone else follows. The moment Gilbert reaches the top, he plants his shield into the ground and Byleth jumps behind it. A wooden shaft strikes Gilbert's rock shield and snaps in half. The arrow head ricochets off and chunks of feather fletching spray in multiple directions.

I grab Charley and Annette by the neck of their attire and pull them down. Honora grabs Felix, and they dive directly behind me. Her headdress tilts to the side and obstructs her face. She yanks it off and sits it to the side as kicks her shoes off. I guess what I said about twisting an ankle finally set in.

Byleth takes his sword and channels some power into it. The weapon falls apart at the ridges etched into the blade and form some kind of whip. Red energy emits from the weapon and charges the grain within. However, it doesn't have the sharp sound of metal flexing. This is more like the blunt ring of bones being broken.

Byleth flicks the handle of his sword, and the chain dances around in the air. He manipulates the momentum of the whip and launches it around the corner of Gilbert's shield. The sound of a man swearing in pain and dropping a wooden object leads me to believe Byleth hit the archer.

"Good shot Professor." Gilbert cheers.

"So you got a crest weapon too? Too bad it isn't going to save you!" A voice full of anger states.

"We just want to talk!" Charley yells.

"Well I've got nothing to say to you!" He replies.

I carefully crawl up to the top step and peek over. A group of men are standing behind this red headed boy that doesn't look much older than me. A gash as wide as a dagger blade crawls from the top of his forehead to the bridge of his nose, and it comes ends at the corner of his mouth. Although I've only seen Sylvain a couple times, this man is a spitting image.

In his hand rests a gold colored weapon that forms a jousting lance with a spear head. The socket of the weapon has been replaced with a crest stone that glows a bright green color. A visible reminder that the wielder doesn't have a crest to properly use the thing.

"Sir! You seem like a man of honor! Would you be willing to hear me out if I give my weapons up!?" Charley states as he stands with his hands up.

Fear compels me to reach out and grab Charley, "What are you doing!? Get down!"

"Trust me! I promise nothing will happen!" He replies.

"No!"

"Let me try! These men seem like they can be reasoned with!"

"I said no!"

"If it makes you feel better, then come with me!"

"NO!"

"Do you got a better idea Artorias!? There's no need for anyone to die!" He says. Although Felix and I killed those two at the tower entrance, it would be best if the bandit horde didn't know.

Charley yanks away and drops his hammer in front of the group.

"Charley! Goddammit!" I furiously shout.

There's nothing that can be done now. I take my sword out of its sheathe and drop it along with the claymore on my back. Felix gets his weapon out as Honora and Annette prepare a spell in case something goes wrong.

"Nice. Real nice. You two are going to get us all killed." Felix scorns us both.

Charley and I gently approach the man and his gang of marauders. The man with the stolen lance drives the tip of the weapon into the ground and waves his hand. The archers under his command un-notch their bows while everyone else sheathes their weapons.

"See? He just wants to talk." Charley whispers.

"You don't negotiate with bandits." I retaliate silently.

"These guys aren't bandits. Their people cast out by a society that should have taken care of them."

"Are you two scheming!?" The red head yells as he prepares to pull the spear.

"Oh, ho, ho! Take it easy! I was just explaining to my teacher that we just want to talk! He's a little on edge when it comes to situations like this!"

"Rightfully so! What do you want!?"

"My name is Charley, and this is my teacher, Artorias."

"Miklan Gautier."

"Hi there Miklan. We were wondering why you stole that relic."

"Simple. To take back what's rightfully mine." Miklan says.

"What would that be?"

"To become the next heir of the Gautier house."

"Well what you did was wrong, but we were wondering what it would take to get it back."

"The only way you are getting this relic from me is when you pry it from my dead hands!" Miklan yells.

"Listen to me, you're scared."

"I am not!"

"Just listen. You're upset because you felt abandoned." Charley places his hand on his chest plate, "I know. Me and my sister were strictly bred for crests, and both of us were cast out because we didn't have one. Then my sister was forcibly sold to a noble, and every night, I wonder about her well being."

Charley takes a deep breath and clears his mind, "When you're in a situation like that, all nobles are bastards. I get it, I was there but don't let that blind you. We commoners are so much more than we're made out to be, and there are people out there, both noble and commoner who will treat you right."

As touching as this speech is, it doesn't seem like it's getting through to Miklan. Just as I expected, he's too far gone. His hate outweighs logic. This is only going to end even more badly than if we just rushed in. I slowly change my stance and wait for an opportunity to strike.

"You know Charley, that was a real nice story. It was almost enough to make me reconsider the error of my ways."

Miklan pulls the tip of the spear out of the ground and attempts to throw the weapon. I flick my arm down, catch the dagger and underhand pitch the blade at Miklan.

He grabs his mouth and staggers back. I don't know where I hit him, but it was somewhere in the face. The group of bandits all check on Miklan while a couple notch their bows. I hoist Charley up on my shoulder and run as fast as I can to the stairway.

Byleth swings his sword around and cuts down a couple arrows directed at me. The tip of his weapon stabs into the seat of a nearby bench and knocks it over. I jump behind it and sit Charley beside me.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I seriously thought I could talk him down." Charley weakly says.

"You tried your best kid. That's all that matters." I reply as I peek around the corner of the bench.

A thick stream of blood paints the side of Miklan's face as he yanks the dagger out of his cheek and throws it in my direction. The blade managed to stab him in the right corner of his mouth. Not enough for a kill shot unfortunately.

"I have to admit, you got me pretty good. Not a bad shot for an underhand pitch." Miklan spits out a huge wad of crimson.

"You know, it still isn't too late to hand the weapon over and leave." Charley says as he peeks out. An arrow strikes the edge of the bench. He shrieks in sudden fright and jumps back into cover.

"I'm done talking with you!" Miklan shouts back.

"Artorias!" Felix yells.

I look in his direction, and he tosses me my sword. He picks Charley's hammer up and slides it over. I put the sword back in my sheathe and try to think. Charley grabs his hammer and frantically checks left and right. He's got us both in a predicament. We're close enough to Byleth that we can communicate, but far enough that if the archers are notched, they'll turn us into a tailor's cushion.

Arrows and javelins bounce off Gilbert's massive wall of rock as he makes his way over to us. If it wasn't for them, we'd probably be at a stalemate. Only a few more steps. Then we can regroup and figure out how to get the relic back.

The sound of energy being drawn out of a weapon travels to my ears. At first, I suspect Byleth, but he's not doing anything with his creator sword. My sword kicks itself out of its sheathe, and the red mist it emits when a detestable soul is nearby spews out of the sheathe. Terror strikes me solid as I lean out and look in Miklan's direction.

"Don't do it! It's not worth your life you idiot!" I yell.

"Oh don't worry, I've got something special planned for you and Charley!" Miklan replies.

The crest stone turns from green to red, and the energy being drawn from the weapon sounds like liquid. The stone splits open, and a thick ooze leaks out. The blood on Miklan's face turns black as corruption dribbles out of his mouth and eyes. He realizes that something is wrong and tries to throw the lance away. As his arm flexes, the flesh on his palm morphs into the lance.

The voice of his desperately pleas for help are swallowed and transformed into a monstrous bellow. Corruption seeps into Miklan's skull and splits it wide open. Jaws similar to river gar take shape. The men standing behind Miklan run away in sheer terror as the relic finishes its job. Huge claws formed out of Miklan's armor plating and bones jut out of the massive paws that shake the ground with a vicious quake.

"Oh no…" Honora gasps.

"It's a goddamn black beast!" I yell.

"We can't let that thing leave this place." Gilbert states.

The black beast's focus shifts onto me and Charley. The look in his eyes evolve from very angry to enraged. Miklan's mouth splits open four ways, and a flood of black saliva flows in between his gaping teeth. The shockwave off his roar kicks up all the dust on the upper quarter.

"Artorias, Charley! Get out of there!" Byleth yells.

No time for plans. I grab Charley's forearm and drag him to the edge of the upper platform. The black beast drives the horn on his nose into the ground and charges directly after us. Charley and I jump over the stone railing and drop down to the first floor.

A shockwave from behind knocks out the weight underneath my feet and causes me to trip over myself. Charley loses his balance, and he face plants into the ground. The beast quickly pounces on Charley and tries to bite into his chest.

"Hey! HEY! Get away from him you ugly son of a bitch!" I yell as I pick up a rusty spearhead and ram it into the creature's neck. The monster howls in shock and focuses on me.

Charley scurries under a nearby table as the creature snaps at me. I weave in and out of its attacks. The black beast swings its massive arm and rolls the barrel I intended to land on. My feet are swept out from under me, and I land flat on my back. The monster raises its right arm and prepares to swing.

The orange glow of Byleth's sword breaks off a chunk of the monster's horn, and a gold chain spontaneously appears and snags hold of the black beast's raised arm. An arrow hits the monster in the neck, and a gust of razor wind strikes him along the spines of his back.

Annette is launching spells, Felix has picked up a bow, and Byleth is attacking with the whip form of his weapon. Honora changes the positioning her hands and pulls them towards her. The golden chain tightens to the point that it crushes the beast's flesh. Its attention switches to everyone on the staircase. Byleth drops down to where I am and helps me up.

Gilbert darts out from the other side of the platform and charges towards the beast. It is completely unaware of his presence as Felix and Annette pelt it with arrows and magic. The monster pulls against the chain Honora has it ensnared in. She pulls with all her strength, but it's clear she can't overpower it by herself.

Gilbert drives his silver axe into the creature's left hand. The creature screams in pain and snaps at him. It's massive mouth bites Gilbert's stone shield and clamps down. He ducks out of the way as the creature grinds part of the rock into dust with its filthy maw.

Charley swings out from behind Gilbert and slams his hammer on top of the axe. The impact presses the bladed beard all the way through the creature's arm. Silver fragments splinter off the axe as it connects with the floor below. The tip of the sharp spike folds out and rolls as Gilbert ditches the broken weapon and shield.

"Come on!" Gilbert yells as him and Charley take off running.

The monster hobbles around and tries to give chase. Another arrow from Felix hits the creature in the eye. The black beast loses the ability to stay balanced and trips over itself. Honora yanks again, and it jerks the monster back. Bones in the arm break the surface of the black skin, and part of the lance exposes itself.

"If we can separate the weapon from Miklan, then we can end this fight." I state as I grab my sword.

"You got a plan?" Byleth asks.

"Yeah. Improvision."

I rush over to the arm Honora has trapped and stick close to the black beast's body. Byleth eases up by my side, and the both of us ram the tips of our swords into the arm of the monster. He twists the creator's sword and separates the flesh from the lance.

The creature violently twists around and attempts to bite us. A series of saw-like teeth come within striking distance of Byleth's arm as we struggle to stay on. Another blast of razor wind hits the side of the monster and flips it over on its side. Byleth grabs the lance and pulls while I slice away the conglomerated flesh fused to the relic.

Slime and corruption spurt out from the open wound and stains our armor a dark purple color. Byleth readjusts his grip on the lance and gives another hard yank. The bits of stringy flesh bound to the weapon snap and let go, and the both of us roll across the ground. The black beast's agonizing squealing fades away into a merciful death throe as it stops moving.

All the corruption that enveloped Miklan melts away. His mis-shaped body lays within a pool of black mixed with streaks of red. Blood from where his muscles ripped gently leak out of the cracks of his mangled armor.

"That was too damn close…" Charley gasps as he puts his hammer up and sits down in front of Miklan's body. "Sorry about your shield, and the axe."

"They're just tools son. The important thing is none of us got hurt." Gilbert replies as he helps me and Byleth to our feet.

"I'll pay you back for them."

"It's okay son. Really, but thank you for the offer." Gilbert gently smiles.

Charley's eyes glow with the heavy burden of sadness and regret. He seriously thought Miklan was going to surrender. If the guy was smart, he would have. They'd hand the lance over, I'd make something up when we got back, and everything would have been right as rain. Granted, we'd probably have to kill Miklan later down the road, but he would have died human rather than a monster.

"You alright?" I ask.

"I'm fine." Charley answers.

"No cuts or bleeding?"

"I'm fine."

"Broken…"

"Artorias, I'm fine."

"Okay. I was just worried." I reply.

"Charley, you don't seem fine." Byleth says.

"Let's just… go home." Charley states.

He gets up and walks out the front door. I let out a sigh of frustration as I try and figure out what to do. The boy is upset, but it doesn't seem like there's anything I can do to make him feel better. I doubt a story about some of the stupid things I did and mother punishing me for it would cheer him up.

I look to Gilbert, "any advice?"

"Give the boy some space. When the time comes, he'll come find you."

Byleth places his hand on my shoulder, "You focus on getting Charley back to the church. We'll take it from here."

"You sure?"

"I think you two need some time alone."

"And what of the Gautier boy?"

"If you can't tell him, I will." Byleth says.

"No need. You're staying behind so I don't. It's the least I can do."

"Very good. Dismissed."

Byleth motions for Felix to come down. Gilbert gathers up some wood and stacks it around Miklan's body. Annette is sitting on the stairs with her head between her knees as Honora comforts her.

"You about to leave?" Honora asks.

I pick up my claymore and collect the throwing dagger, "Yeah. I got to take the boy home."

"I see. Promise me you two will be careful on the way back." Honora says as she holds her arms open.

I lean over and hug her, "Thank you. I would have died back there if it weren't for you. Annette? I know you don't want to talk about it, but thank you as well."

"You're welcome…" Annette huffs in between soft sobs.

Charley is waiting for me in the middle of the courtyard. He takes off by himself, and I follow. Although most of them have scattered, there could still be remnants of Miklan's group hanging around. I keep an eye on the high places while we exit out a small side gate.

We climb up on our horses and get back on the main road. Despite it being the middle of the night, soldiers from Faerghus' reserves are riding around and setting up torches that light the various paths. A line of flicking, orange lights illuminate the paved roads that twist and turn off in the distance.

Felix wasn't kidding. His father, and the surrounding nobles really do take public safety seriously. Although it's mainly volunteers with leather armor and iron weapons, there are patrols, checkpoints, and small garrisons of men spread out through the forest as far as I can see. All within earshot of one another if something happens.

Charley spurs his horse, "Let's go!"

I click my tongue and Glitter slowly builds up speed. Normally by now, Charley would have offered to do something. Sing, converse, or inform me about Fodlan's history, but he's absolutely silent. I'll just take him home. There's no need for him to come with me when I tell the Gautier boy about what happened.

Trying to save someone, only to end up failing is a terrible feeling. As much as I want to talk to him about it, the look on his face, and the depressed posture leads me to believe that Gilbert is right. I'll leave him alone for a couple days. Hopefully by then, Charley will have the strength to talk about it…


	15. Chapter 14

Darkness flees from Garreg Mach's village as dawn slowly approaches. Rays from the early morning sun paint Charley's white horse a light shade of orange. The fragrant aroma of burning, pine sap fills the white smoke bellowing from the residents' outdoor fire pits. Men are chopping wood while the women collect water for the day ahead.

Serios knights standing guard at the village's entrance lower their spears and greet Charley and I with a humble welcome. "Good morning." I say on both of our behalves.

Charley continues to ride on without expressing any kind of attention. We make our way down the main path, and I veer off onto the road that will take us to Charley's house.

"I'll take the horses back. You go get some rest." I say.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Charley hands me the reins to his horse and slides out of the saddle. He unlocks the front gate, and heads straight for the house.

"I'll see you later." I say.

Charley continues to hold his menacing silence as he enters the house. He didn't even reply nor give any kind of halfhearted wave. I sigh in disappointment and turn the horses around. The white horse snorts and shakes his head while Glitter softly neighs in a somewhat melancholy tone.

"It's not you or your friend here. This mission was just difficult for the boy. That's all." I say as I pat the side of Glitter's neck.

However, the worst has yet to come. I still have to inform the Gautier boy about the outcome. Unlike executions, this is much more pain staking. I'd rather drop my claymore on a handful of enemies than tell some kid he just lost an immediate family member.

I lead Glitter, and the other horse to the stable inside Garreg Mach. The stable attendant grabs the white horse and leads it while I get off Glitter. Since it's still early in the morning, the kids should be in their rooms.

This Gautier boy is a noble. Which means he'll be on the second floor of the dormitories. I make my way up the stairs and examine the wooden name plates hanging on the outside of the doors. It would be so much easier if they just divided the kids up by their selected house rather than the amount of money their family spent to send them here.

The last door on the right bears the name, _Sylvain Gautier_. I knock and step back. The sound of metal springs in a mattress ring out from the other side. I stand up straight and take a deep breath as the lock on the other side unlatches from the wall frame. The door rakes against the stained door trim and skids across the hardwood floor. Red strands of hair partially obstruct the boy's gold eyes as he pokes his head out.

"Sylvain Gautier?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Artorias."

"I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"No son."

"Oh, then come on in." He says as he opens the door all the way. "Sorry. With you being the executioner, I thought something was wrong. Here. Sit down." Sylvian offers me a seat in a rocking chair.

"Obliged." I reply as I sit down.

"Would you care for some morning tea? It's bergamot." He asks as he pours himself a cup.

"No thank you." I pull out some tobacco I rolled yesterday morning and put it in my mouth, "This okay?"

"Yeah sure. Let me get the window. I've had worse in this room." Sylvain chuckles as he walks over to the window and opens it.

"I won't say anything if you don't." I place the tip of my tobacco into his fireplace and puff a couple times. The paper catches, and a wave of smoke travels through the freshly shredded tobacco leaves. A powerful flavor resembling spicy cinnamon sets inside my mouth.

"So, I've seen this person hanging around you a lot. Has pink hair."

"That's my apprentice, Charley." I state.

"Oh…So that's not a girl?"

"No."

"Well I seriously thought your apprentice was a girl."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"Where is he right now?"

"He's back home. We just got back from a mission, and he's taking it pretty hard."

"Oh really? What happened?" Sylvain asks.

I take another puff of my tobacco and exhale the moment he finishes sipping his tea, "Well, it involved a stolen relic from the Gautier house."

Sylvain stops halfway between another sip and sits there. The petrified look of frightened anticipation locks him in his seat as he anxiously waits for the answer. Part of him wants to believe things didn't escalate, but deep in his heart, he knows that's not the case.

"Charley tried to talk your brother down, but he wouldn't back off. Your brother then made an attempt to attack Charley with the relic, and at that point, I didn't have any other choice but to engage."

Sylvain sits his tea down on the table between us and puts his hands on his face. He runs his fingers into his eyes and lets out a depressed sigh. I'm not going to tell him Byleth had anything to do with Miklan's death, because I don't want there to be any potential strife between him, and Sylvain.

Even though all of us are responsible for his death, there's no reason for anyone other than me to accept the blame. If memory serves right, Annette and Felix are in the same house as him, and if Sylvian bears any kind of ill will, it could drive a wedge between everyone in the blue lions.

"I never could bring myself to hate him. Despite all the terrible things he did to me when we were young. He was the first born. The rightful heir to the family, but then I came along."

Sylvain flips his arm over and reveals some kind of crest that rests under years of self-inflicted scars. "All I wanted to do was live a normal life. I never asked for the Gautier birthright, but fate had other plans. Miklan felt betrayed, but I don't harbor any resentment towards him, or you. If you wouldn't have acted, then your apprentice would have been killed."

I remain silent and continue to puff on my tobacco as Sylvian tries to come to terms on what has happened. It would be insensitive to say anything. There are no right things to discuss on a topic such as this. Judging by the faded scars on his arm, I'd say he sees himself as cursed.

"Artorias, do you have a crest?"

"I do not. Charley comes from a wealthy family, but he doesn't either."

Sylvian lets out a stifled laugh, "You know, I envy you commoners. It sounds strange, but I really wish I didn't have a crest. Commoners, they have it so much better. Everyone sees you for what you are, rather than what you have. Nobles? they don't care about you as a person. They only care about what you can offer them."

"If anyone knows how horrible both sides can be, it's Charley. He was strictly bred for a crest by the commoners, and then his sister was sold to the nobles."

"I will have to meet this Charley someday. He sounds like someone I could actually sit down and talk to about life rather than heirs or nobility." Sylvain says.

"Well, I travel out to a field in Rowe around the first of the Pegasus moon to go watch the magnolia leaves fall before the snow blows in, and I plan on taking Charley with me. Given you and Charley are on good terms by then, and you don't have any plans, you're welcome to join us."

"I will certainly consider it." Sylvain replies.

I take one final puff from my tobacco stub and toss it into the fire. Sylvain reaches out, and we take ahold of each other's arm, "You're a strong man. Don't let this one incident keep you down."

"I won't. It's just going to be difficult knowing he's finally gone." Sylvain replies.

"Although it's not part of Garreg Mach's curriculum, it's okay to feel something other than strength at times." I say.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

There is nothing more that needs to be said. I exit Sylvain's room and head downstairs. The first bell from the sanctuary rooftop rings. Students from the various houses rush to make it to class before the second bell sounds. Clerics and monks walk around and offer up their daily prayers to the Goddess, Sothis.

It's in their religious language, but it doesn't take much to deduce that they are praying for the safety of the students, the staff as well as their homes. Although religion has never been something that's appealed to me, it's kind of nice knowing that there are people thinking about us soldiers.

They offer their moral support for our swords. Doesn't sound like much, but it makes a difference when you know people are depending on you for their safety, and it's made even better when people are actually grateful for the freedom they've been given.

I walk to the fishing pond and sit down on the bench overlooking the wooden dock. Clear spots within the murky water punch all the way through to the bottom. Various types of fish swim up to the surface and quickly dart away the moment the waterlogged pillars vibrate from people's footsteps.

I pull out mother's old journal and flip to a random page that dates back to my early teenage years. Now I remember, this was when she took me on a pilgrimage to her native land. She wanted to show me just how big the world was, and how different her country was from mine;

_It's been nearly seven years since I last seen this place and not much has changed. Artorias however, is absolutely enamored. The one thing that fascinates him the most are the sakura trees. He says they're just like the magnolia's back home, except their pink and red. I told him that I used to live in snowcapped mountains surrounded by sakura trees._

_I got to share with him where I came from, and how my family were wealthy nobles. Despite their status, they lived among the monks. Completely disconnected from the politics that stained our country. I was the second born out of three children. My oldest brother wanted to become a priest, my little sister desired to be a silk tailor, and I liked hammering away at metal._

_Soon came the discussion of why I left. I didn't tell Artorias the whole story, because he was still too young to understand, but I told him that a conflict broke out. Eventually, this little conflict turned into a war. Because of the overwhelming odds we were up against, our traditional means of fighting wasn't helping my people win, so I developed a form of unconventional warfare that came from the concept of my little sister's favorite game, hide and seek._

_Artorias laughed at the idea that what I was teaching him came from a child's game, but he still showed reverence and respect towards an ideology that is so heavily despised. I then told Artorias that he was growing up too fast, and that I'd be part of his life as long possible._

"What are you reading?" A frail voice asks.

My eyes trace over a small girl intently looking at the leather cover of my book. Her hands are placed behind her back as she bends over with anticipation. It's that Flayn kid. Seteth's sister or something like that.

"Is it your diary?"

"Yes and no." I reply as I continue reading. Maybe if I pay no attention to her, she'll go away. Although that usually has the opposite effect with children.

"I didn't know men had diaries."

"Well you learn something new every day kid." I reply as I shuffle around and give her the impression to go away.

She takes a seat down beside me and tries to glance over my shoulder.

"Would you like to see?" I ask.

"Sure!"

I hold the book in front of Flayn and show her the page I'm reading. She realizes that it isn't in Fodlan's alphabet and attempts to decipher what it says. A puzzled look grows on her face, and Flayn scratches her head.

"This is actually a language?"

"Of course." I reply.

"Why is it nothing but doodle drawing?" Flyan asks.

"I don't know. If I knew the person that developed the language, I'd ask them."

"Where did you learn to read this?"

"My mother was from a land far to the east."

"But you're from a Fodlan bloodline. You don't look anything like someone from the east." She states.

"True, but I was taken in and raised. That's why my values are different than the ones from Fodlan."

"My brother told me all about you. He said you refused to accept a knight's sword from Rhea."

"Politely decline. Seteth has been known to over-embellish what actually happened." I reply.

"Well that's something we can both agree on." Flayn says. "Artorias, why are you so reserved? It's rumored you are the only S rated swordsman Garreg Mach has, and you graduated our black magic master class the first month you were here. Why don't you take up a teaching position?"

"The day my mother passed, she entrusted me with the blessings and curses of her wisdom. She made me promise that knowledge was only given out sparingly so that nobody could abuse the power of her teachings. That included her language, culture, tactics and techniques. Besides, what she taught me is viewed as cowardly and dishonorable here in Fodlan."

"I see. A lot of people say you have no sense of chivalry or honor. Which I don't understand because you're quiet and very polite when spoken to."

It's all a matter of perspective." I reply as I flip to the back of the book and find the song mother wrote.

Flayn realizes that the organization of the symbols are much different on the page with the song than the journal entry, "Is that like a poem, or a song?"

"A hymn."

"What hymn is it?"

"It's about your family being there for you even after death."

"How does it go?"

I place my finger on the symbols and give a rough translation of the lyrics mother wrote; "_Though I am gone, just ash in the wind, one life surrendered so yours can begin, courage my children, this is your song, I am the earth, and I make you strong_."

Flayn squints as hard as she can and tries to see if she can identify any symbol on that page. Judging by her fading determination, it's not working.

"How long did it take you to learn this language?"

"About four years to learn how to read and write accurately, then around nine to hold a fluent conversation. I also had to learn the Fodlan alphabet at the same time." I reply.

Flayn points to a symbol, and I verbally say the word in mother's language, and its definition. Even though this is supposed to be forbidden, a few words here and there can't hurt. It's not like Flayn is actually going to remember any of this anyway…

End of the Verdant Rain Moon Arc…


	16. Chapter 15

Horseshoes from our animals click against the dusty road as Jeralt, Alois and I patrol through the village. My intuition about Rhea getting suspicious about the missing crest stones was correct. She's doubled the number of patrols and sent several knights to western church territory to plan a potential attack in the future.

Hanneman hasn't made progress on his crest research as a result. Nor have I been able to talk to Edelgard about our progress because anything that can be considered somewhat suspicious will be reported.

In order to prevent Rhea from suspecting me, I volunteered to help the knights patrol outside the monastery since there's been rumors about an increase in missing people cases. Whether it's true or not, I don't know, but the magistrate has issued a curfew for the inhabitants until this problem has been solved.

"I need to stop off by the blacksmith." Alois says as he points at the shop.

"Alright. We'll give the horses a break." Jeralt says.

I slide off Glitter and hitch her to the post. Jeralt takes a sip from his wooden flask as I strike a sulphur tipped match and light my tobacco up. The both of us take a seat on a nearby bench while Alois heads to the shop. The town watch is walking around and lighting the night time torches since dusk is almost at its end. The three of us have been patrolling since the sun came up. So far, our search has yielded no results.

"How's that student of yours doing?" Jeralt asks as he takes another sip of his fermented corn mash.

"I don't know Jeralt. Ever since that incident at Conand Tower, he's lost all his motivation, and there's nothing I can do to get him to cheer up." I take another puff of this bland tobacco and lean back, "Maybe I'm not cut out to be a mentor, so I've been considering other options."

"Other options?" Jeralt asks.

"Yeah. Like placing him under someone like Katherine."

Shock grows across Jeralt's face as he glares at me in confusion, "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Artorias?"

"Jeralt, let's face it. I can't teach. As much as I hate to say it, someone like Katherine would be a better choice."

"Why is that?"

"Because she's actually a knight with influence, and a bright future. Me? I'm nothing more than a man who is overly attached to a woman who wasn't even his real mother and reminisces about how great the past was. My ways are nothing like Fodlan's. Why should Charley be forced to learn something he's not interested in?"

Jeralt takes another sip of his mash and offers me a drink. A wave of malted corn and sugar mixes with the sweet smell of my tobacco. I politely decline and offer him a puff off my tobacco. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"You know, I was in the same place you were when I was your age." Jeralt says.

"How so?"

"I was nowhere ready to be a father. Then when my son was born, I lost my wife to childbirth fever. As Byleth got older, the boy showed no interest in anything. He didn't smile, or cry. He wouldn't even laugh. I'd take him fishing, and when I'd get excited about hooking something, he'd just stare at me with this indifferent look. You know the feeling."

"A little too well." I answer.

The day after we got back, I went to Charley's house and told him what I planned on teaching him. He didn't say much the entire day. Even when I'd try to talk to him about something. He'd just say, "Oh, that sounds great," or "sure thing." I'm not a very social person by any means, but I at least expect some kind of acknowledgement that extends past a basic reply.

The more I think about it, the more I am beginning to believe that Charley blames me for what happened to Miklan. He's probably angry because he genuinely thought the man was going to surrender, but even Sylvain said his brother wasn't going to change. Maybe Charley's acting this way because he wants to get away from me.

"You're the one who saved that boy at Zando. You're the one who took him in and gave him a place at the monastery. He's your responsibility. I can't say things like this won't happen, but pawning him off on someone else isn't going to solve anything. It's just going to make things worse." Jeralt states.

"But what if that's what he wants? Maybe he wants to belong to a house in Garreg Mach, or someone with a future."

"Artorias, the more you tell yourself that, the more you're going to believe it. There were so many times I wanted to leave Byleth with someone more qualified to be a father because I thought the fault was in me. When in reality, the only faults were the ones I created."

His words bring me some kind of assurance that things will be okay. However, it doesn't solve the problem on what I should do with Charley. Maybe Jeralt is right, but there is still that possibility Charley doesn't want to be under me, and that he is intentionally doing this in hopes I'll pass him off.

I know he's my responsibility, but how am I supposed to take care of and train someone that doesn't have any interest in the duties I must fulfill? I can't talk to him about it, because I won't get anything other than a basic reply that extends pass a sheepish "yeah" or "interesting."

"You know Jeralt. This tobacco is really bad. I got ripped on this one." I state as the taste of stale coffee exits my mouth and nose.

Jeralt stops halfway through a sip and lets out a stifled cough. He pinches the tip of his nose and lets out a pain ridden groan, "Damn you Artorias. You caused my throat to lock up, and it went to my nose." He chuckles.

"I didn't mean too." I laugh along with him.

Jeralt wipes his nose and puts his flask away as I stomp the tobacco roll out against the stone path. Alois gives off a visual sign of glee as he smiles and skips over to us. The fingers of his gauntlet are wrapped around a gold encrusted sheathe.

"What do you have there, squire?" Jeralt asks.

Alois pulls a blued steel dagger out of the custom sheathe and hands it to Jeralt. He rubs his thumb across the edge and tests the sharpness. Jeralt flips it upside down and hands it to me. I place my index finger in the middle of the blade and let go. The weapon delicately titters back and forth before balancing itself out.

"Razor sharp." Jeralt says.

"And balanced. A great combination." I add as I flip the dagger right side up and hand it back to Alois.

"It's for my daughter. The girl is about that age she needs to have something to carry."

"Well these days, you can't leave home without one." Jeralt says as he gets back on his horse.

"Hey Artorias, how old were you when you learned how to use a sword?" Alois asks.

"I started at the age of five. By six years old, I was already having first blood duels."

"At that age?"

"This was back when you couldn't really depend on the knights or mercenaries for protection, and I ended up making my first kill at eight years old."

"Well we won't ask for the details." Jeralt states.

I touch the side of my face and look into the palm of my gauntlet. It seems as if it were only yesterday. Mother was rallying the villagers to fight off a bandit horde with anything they could find. Since I was eight, the elders made me stay with the children.

As the conflict escalated, the man in charge of protecting us was killed. I still remember the look of horror and failure on his face as red gushed from the broken axe blade in his skull. The bandits then set their eyes on me, and the children. As they tried to drag me away, I managed to pick up a wood splitting nail and ram it into the throat of the man attacking me.

The other men teased and taunted as they circled around me. Completely unaware I just killed someone. One of the bandits tossed me his sword and said they'd leave if I could kill him. He rushed me unarmed. The shock on his face the moment the iron split his chest open made me feel sick to my stomach.

As he fell, one of the bandits killed this girl in front of me. They then said because of what I did, they were going to kill the rest of the kids. This carnal feeling of ravenous hatred turned my boiling blood cold. The moments between that girl's death and me coming to my senses is completely obscure.

All I remember is the children were spattered with blood and crying, mother was wiping tears from my face, all of the bandits were dead, and my body was completely red. I tried to look around because I couldn't remember what happened, or why I was covered in blood, or why my sword was broken at the hilt, but she pressed my head into her chest and said that it was over. After that, mother and the elders washed me off, gave me a new set of clothes and fed me.

The children however, were scared to come around me. They would all run indoors or hide behind their parents if I was spotted. When I would ask what the problem was, everyone would say it was because of what happened in that barn.

Some began calling me Slaughterhouse, while others named me the Red Wall. Shortly after, we just left. It was getting to the point nobody would sell anything to me, or mother. Despite us saving their homes and families, they grew to hate us.

At that point, I realized that mother was the only family I was ever going to have because she loved me no matter what. If an episode like that were to ever occur again, and the people of Garreg Mach see what truly lies under my kind nature, they'll do the same thing. Every last one of them.

Alois points ahead at the magistrate's office, "What's going on there?"

Outside the building, people are gathered around and trying to look inside. The fact it's past curfew leads me to believe something is horribly wrong. Jeralt makes a motion for us to investigate. The horses build up into a gentle trot as we approach the group. Feelings of confusion and shock loom within the people as everyone converses back and forth about what's happening.

"What's going on?" Jeralt asks.

"I don't know! I seen two people walk in after curfew, and they haven't left since!" A man yells.

"Alois, Artorias, go around and cover the back." Jeralt says.

Alois takes the lead, and I follow him. The magistrate should have been home before the curfew. Which means he was working late, or something has prevented him from leaving. We ease around the corner of the building. Two horses sit at the back door. A black one, and a spotted grey one.

A person wearing a mask walks out the back door with something over their shoulder. Spots of red dot the formless mask. My eyes trace over a black horse sitting a couple paces from the building. Two horns protrude out of the top of the rider's helmet. Mounted on the back of his horse is a girl that's been bound and gagged with cloth. It suddenly occurs to me what's happening. It's Skullface.

As my eyes focus on the person with the faceless mask, a glimmer of pink hair juts out of the burlap sack. Anger fills my soul as I draw my sword and prepare to charge. These bastards are trying to kidnap Charley, and the magistrate's daughter. Charley's head bursts out of the sack as he looks over in my direction. Joy fills his eyes as he tries to scream my name through his confined mouth.

Skullface turns around and realizes that they aren't alone. Faceless quickly hops up on the horse and takes off across the sunflower field.

"GIVE HIM BACK!" I yell as I spur Glitter and charge.

Alois falls in, and we give chase. Faceless reaches down and grabs a bow. A flint headed wooden shaft rubs against the bow and flies directly at me. I swing my sword around and cut the arrow down in mid-air. The next shot isn't going to be at me, but the horse. I tug the reins left and right in a random manner to throw off the person shooting at me.

Charley manages to work his arms free from his restraints. As Faceless takes aim again, Charley grabs an arrow from the quiver and drives it through my attacker's arm. The sudden movement of Faceless flinching causes the horse to violently buck. Charley, and his captor fly off the horse and hit the ground. A female voice from underneath the baron mask lets out a choppy groan. Charley yanks the rag out of his mouth and desperately tries to draw breath.

Skullface realizes what's going on and forces his horse to come to a stop. I jump off Glitter and rush over to Charley's side. Alois slides off his horse and grabs his axe as I help Charley free himself.

"What did they do to you!?"

"Just worry about the girl!" Charley states as he finally frees his bound legs.

A javelin flies directly towards Skullface. He spins his scythe like weapon around and deflects the incoming projectile. Jeralt rides up by our sides and gets off. Faceless snaps the head of the arrow off and yanks the shaft out. Charley tries to rush forward, but I place my hand on his chest and push him behind me. Jeralt and Alois take a position up on both of my sides. By the looks of it, I'll be dealing with Faceless.

"Alois, when there's an opening, get the girl and take Charley back to the monastery." Jeralt says.

"Oh come on!" Charley yells.

"No."

"Artorias!"

"When the time comes, I'll let you. But this isn't the place." I reply as I slowly shuffle towards Faceless. She grabs an axe from her horse's saddlebag and approaches me. As we get closer, a brown drop collects on the chin of her mask and drips down onto a golden petal of a sunflower.

Jeralt readies his spear as he slowly approaches Skullface. "Finally. An opponent that is actually worth my time." Skullface's metallic voice echoes through his helmet. He swings his scythe around his head and slashes. Jeralt ducks under the incoming attack and jabs at him. Skullface sidesteps, and the both of them engage.

I place my sword back into its sheathe and stand in a solid stance while Faceless gets within striking range. She acts like she's going to swing, but resistance in her arm causes her to cancel the attack. More droplets of brown drip off her mask as she barely takes a step forward and slings her axe.

Faceless changes the course of the attack halfway and slices horizontally. I jump back and unsheathe my sword. She uses the handle of her axe to block the attack and shoves me back. Faceless lifts her axe over her head as slams it down. The faint whisper of air being sliced in half trails behind the silver glint of the axe as I spin out of the way. It pummels the ground below, and I stomp on the handle as hard as I can.

She drops the axe, and I thrust my weapon. The very tip of my sword cuts into the hammered metal of her mask. She leans back as far as she possibly can as black steel gouges out a massive scar. Faceless backs off and runs her fingers into the deep crevice that has been carved out.

It's obvious she isn't much of an axe wielder. The way she was trying to rely more on swinging it like a sword rather than letting the weight carry the weapon leads me to believe Faceless is more of a greatsword user. I check to make sure Jeralt isn't getting overwhelmed, but just as I'd expect from Blade Breaker himself, he's holding his own and winning.

Jeralt spins his spear around his back and unleashes a massive sweep that covers a huge area. Skullface uses the neck of his weapon to trap Jeralt's spear and pins it to the ground. Skullface pulls out a knife from his belt and lunges it towards Jeralt's head. He twists his head, and the muscles in his neck tense up.

"Yuv gut ta do bedder dan tat!" Jeralt's muffled voice exits his mouth.

He turns his head forward and stares directly at Skullface. Jeralt has managed to catch the knife with his teeth. Jeralt clamps down and snaps the knife in half. Skullface leaps back as Jeralt spits the broken knife out and lunges his spear at him.

"It appears our playtime has come to an end." Skullface says as he points back towards Garreg Mach.

Alois has managed to alert the town watch, and a group of knights are riding to our very location. I put my sword back in its sheathe and kick the axe over to Faceless. She picks it up and jumps up onto her horse.

Jeralt walks over to me as I bend over and examine the sunflower with the brown specks. By the way these drops formed on the petal, it looks like it was falling from the side of her face. They aren't tears. Nor is it blood. So what is it?

I take one of my gauntlet's off and press my finger into a droplet that hasn't completely dried yet. It has the consistency of blood, but within the sticky fluid is a pigment that feels like some kind of dye.

"Artorias! Are you alright!?" I hear Charley yell in the distance.

"And here you are. Thinking the boy doesn't care about you." Jeralt teases.

"Don't start."

Jeralt lets out a gentle laugh as he pats my shoulder, "He's fine Charley. Is the girl safe?"

Yes. She's at Garreg Mach."

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

"A little sore when I fell off the horse, but other than that, I'm good." Charley states.

"Good. I was worried about you." I pluck the sunflower that has the droplets and place it in my side satchel for evidence. Maybe Hanneman can determine what it is.

"Speaking of which, what were you doing at the Magistrate's office this late at night?" I ask as I put my gauntlet back on.

Charley sighs in disappointment and shrugs his shoulders, "That girl was supposed to meet me at my house before curfew. When she didn't show up, I went to see if she was still coming."

He clears his throat and tries to remain calm, "those two…they killed her father. That one you call Skullface executed him while the other held me and his daughter down. I tried to fight back but she forced…" Charley trembles as he tries to recall the rest of the ordeal.

"That's enough." I interrupt him as I put my hands on his shoulders and try to calm him down.

"Artorias, you are wanted at Rhea's throne room. It's rather urgent, so I wouldn't keep her waiting." An approaching knight says.

"Thanks for the heads up." I climb onto Glitter and pull Charley up to the horse. He sits behind me and balances himself out.

I spur Glitter, and she takes off towards Garreg Mach. This isn't good. Hopefully she didn't figure out what happened down there in the holy mausoleum. If that's the case, then Charley isn't safe here.

Charley looks behind us and makes sure nobody is within earshot, "Artorias, you don't think…"

"I don't think so, but if I were you, I'd consider finding another mentor."

"No Artorias! We swore we'd do this together if it came to that!"

"Now is not the time for honoring commitments."

"Artorias!"

"It's better this way. You know, and I know it. Go find yourself a knight with a future rather than a man who lives in the past."

Charley looks down at the space between us and takes a deep breath. He places his hands on my shoulders and squeezes as tightly as he can. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he tries to hold his breath.

Even if this isn't about the crest stones, Charley is aware that it's time to start looking somewhere else. Byleth seems like a really good teacher, and I'm sure Edelgard would have no problem in taking him in if Byleth can't.

Next month is the battle of the eagle and lion. It's a big reenactment of a massive fight that took place decades ago. The little skirmish is also an evaluation of each house's combat abilities. I can convince Edelgard to put Charley within her ranks. If he proves himself worthy, then she'll more than likely ask him to join her house. Which means he'll be under her supervision.

If things work out, then it will be for what's best. However, the thought of Charley not being my apprentice anymore makes my heart hurt. Sure, we'll see each other once a week, but we won't be spending everyday together.

I approach the front gate of Garreg Mach and get off my horse. The knights above signal to let me in. I turn back around and nod at Charley. He scrubs his face and tries to smile. My heart sinks the moment I cross the threshold, and the gates close behind me.

The entire place is on high alert. If worst comes to worst, then Charley will have time to get out of here since he's waiting outside the walls. I make my way over to the buildings next to the monastery's bridge and take the stairs to the second floor.

The doors to Rhea's throne room are wide open, and Hanneman is sitting in his office. The sound of metal grinding against a gritty whetstone bounces off the walls as he pours some oil onto a thin looking blade.

"Artorias! I have something for you!" He says with a gleeful smile.

"I'll be with you shortly." I answer and continue into the throne room. Byleth and Honora are humbly waiting off by Rhea's side, but Seteth is pacing back and forth. He only does that when something is troubling him. Seteth presses his thumb into his mouth and softly gnaws on the fingernail.

"Artorias." Rhea states.

"The Sword Saint reporting for duty." I reply.

"There you are! Am I glad to see you!" Seteth says.

"You're never happy to see me. What's the problem?"

"It's Flayn! She's missing!"

"Missing?"

"I told her to be back before dark, and she hasn't returned yet!" He replies.

"Seteth is worried that someone within the monastery has kidnapped her." Rhea says.

"Are you sure she isn't staying the night in the village?"

"That isn't possible because she's forbidden to leave the monastery! Flayn would never disobey an order like that!" Seteth states.

"Any leads?" I ask.

"I asked the gate keeper this morning if he'd seen anything suspicious, and he reported that one of the scribes has been sneaking out after curfew." Byleth says as he crosses his arms.

"You know, Jeralt and I just dealt with some people trying to kidnap Charley, and the Magistrate's daughter. Possible connection?" I ask.

"Most likely. With rumors of the death knight lurking about, and the disappearances of several students and villagers, I'd say it is." Rhea answers.

"Artorias, listen to me. I have never agreed with your tactics. Nor do I approve of any of your dishonorable behavior, but if anyone can hunt down someone in the shadows, it's you!" Seteth pleas.

"I'll find the girl, and kill those responsible." I reply.

"Very good Artorias. I want you to take Byleth with you. Although I agree with Seteth on your behavior, this is not the time to do things honorably." Rhea says.

"Can you send someone for Charley? He's waiting outside the front gate." I say.

"I'll go. That will give you some time to set up." Byleth states as he leaves the throne room.

So Skullface is also known as the Death Knight. He's the one responsible for the curfew, and all the missing people. Then there's his accomplice, Faceless. That's how so many people went missing so quick.

Byleth also mentioned something about a scribe sneaking out past dark. So my intuition was correct. That person staking Charley this entire time is the rat. It makes sense now. The scribe has been marking potential victims. He's also been spying on me and trying to find ways to exploit my tactics. The game is now in play. Shadow versus shadow. A fight this shadow will win.

I knock on Hanneman's door and poke my head in. He holds up a thin piece of metal that's shaped like a throwing knife. "Ah, Artorias! Come in!"

"You got something for me?"

"A new upgrade for your left arm!"

"I see." I say as I pick up one of the blades he was sharpening and examine it.

The piece of metal is shaped just like a dagger, but instead of having any bulk to it, it's as thin as paper. Hanneman takes my left arm and opens the contraption that houses my dagger. He takes it out and places one of the new blades in.

"Any catchy name for this?" I ask as he loads several more.

"Oh, this is just part one! You're going to love it when I finish part two!"

"Any hints?"

"It's something I like to call, 'you'll see!'" Hanneman replies.

I flick my wrist, and the contraption ejects the blade out into my hand. Compared to the old throwing dagger, this is much smoother and feels like it's going to be a lot more accurate. Not to mention I have more than one to throw now.

"This upgrade is going to allow you to hold seven blades compared to the one you've been hauling around. Tough, durable, and very effective against targets with leather and cloth armor." Hanneman says.

"I'll put it to good use. Don't you worry." I reply as I open the contraption and put the dagger back.

"Good luck Artorias."

I pull the sunflower I collected from the field earlier and lay it on the desk. "Before I head out, could you take a look at this."

Hanneman picks the flower up and looks at it. He straightens his monocle as he leans in and inspects the brown spots of pigment. Hanneman rubs his chin and pulls out a magnifying glass.

"I was fighting with this woman out in the sunflower field, and this fluid was dripping down the side of her face."

"Well, it's not blood, but the droplets definitely contain human pigment." He puts the magnifying glass away and opens up a book about crests and how they affect the individual, "I'll let you know if I make any discoveries."

"Thanks, Hanneman." I wave him goodbye and proceed outside.

The first rule of business is finding a good place to post up. A place that can cover the largest amount of area while offering very little exposure. The Goddess tower is way too obvious, and it's located beside the sanctuary across the bridge. Getting to one point from another would take too long. The main hall would be a good choice, because it covers the main entrance, but by this point, the person who kidnapped Flayn is going to be aware of this.

The wall that surrounds Garreg Mach will be a massive deterrent because there is always a patrol up there. However, the graveyard located over by the staff dormitories can't be observed from the wall. Even with the torches lit, the patrols wouldn't be able to see anyone wearing black. If I were to kidnap someone, that's the path I would take.

Over by the stables, Charley and Byleth act like they are part of a passing patrol. Charley dives into a cluster of overhanging shadows and crouch walks towards me. Byleth follows his lead and both of them work their way to the edge of darkness.

"What's the plan?" Charley whispers from the shadows.

"I'm going to check this building right here."

"I thought you'd say that. You might need this then." Charley tosses me a rope.

"Where'd you get that?" Byleth asks.

"I borrowed it from the blacksmith."

I mount the rope over my shoulders and walk around to the back of the building. This would be so much easier if it was just me. Especially given the circumstance that someone has been kidnapped. It's not like at Conand where if we failed, the only thing that would happen was some noble losing a relic. This is a hostage situation, and one wrong move could mean death for Flayn.

I grab a window's ledge and throw myself up to the next story. Charley whispers to Byleth on what to do before leaving the shadows. He looks both ways and makes sure it's clear. Charley rushes over to the wall as I vault onto the third-floor buttress and toss the rope down. Byleth remains in the shadows as Charley ascends. I wrap the rope around my waist and post my legs up against a wyvern statue positioned on the corner of the building.

Although he is struggling to scale straight up, he has improved on his balance. Compared to when he first began, it's not like a fish snagged on a line. Charley is still wasting a lot of momentum, but he has improved greatly.

One of Charley's hands grab a hold of the buttress's ledge. His tongue is hanging out of his mouth as he gasps for air. He throws his leg over and rolls himself up. Byleth grabs a hold of the rope, and he starts his ascension. Charley moves towards me and takes cover behind a decorative wyvern statue.

Byleth hops over the edge and drops down. I'm guessing Charley told him what to do once he reached the top. Charley helps me haul the rope up, and the three of us slowly crawl in the direction of the building that will allow us to see the graveyard.

"Charley, what's the first thing we do?" I ask.  
"Um…Oh yeah, make sure you're not over exposed."

"And then?"

"Sound is just as important as your vision. Keep your head on a swivel. Constantly looking behind your back to make sure nobody is getting the drop on you while moving as smoothly and quietly as possible."

"Smart boy." I reply.

The torches down in the graveyard have been lit, but they are spread so far apart that it would be impossible to see anything from the main wall. Not to mention that there are no knights patrolling around the tombs and headstones. Probably due to superstition, or reverence for the dead. Which I understand and respect but traditions and beliefs aren't going to stop an enemy from using it against you.

A group of patrolling knights pass right under us. Completely unaware of our presence. As they pass, something below catches my attention. I place my hand over my ear and listen more closely. A pebble bounces in the direction of the graveyard and skids across the cobblestone path.

Byleth and Charley cover their mouths to muffle their breathing as I attempt to locate the source of sound. A human like figure dressed in a pitch-black cloak runs over to the entrance of the graveyard and climbs over the dormitory gate.

I quickly scale down the window ledges and drop into a sea of darkness. Charley ties the rope around a wyvern statue and climbs down. Byleth acts like he wants to make a statement, but he shrugs his head and follows after Charley.

I rush across to where the gate is and wait a couple moments before peeking. Charley signals that it's clear, and they make their way towards me. A wooden door on the other side of the gate slowly creaks open. Charley makes an attempt to climb over the dormitory wall, but I grab his arm and shake my head no.

The grain within the door sounds like it's about to collide with something. I hop up and glance over the wall. The third door leading into the staff dormitory closes behind the figure we've been pursuing. Charley jumps up by my side and looks around. I point to the door that the person went through, "there."

"Do you think that's where Flayn will be?" Byleth asks.

"If not, her captors certainly will be." I reply as I hop over the wall.

Charley and Byleth climb over. Once this thing kicks off, there won't be any turning back. Charley grabs his hammer while Byleth unsheathes his creator sword.

"Be mindful that there could be innocent people in here." Byleth states.

"Think before you strike." I reply as we all prepare for what lies ahead…


	17. Chapter 16

I ease up to the door and gently test the knob. It slightly turns before the tumblers lock themselves in place. I step onto a low-lying window ledge and climb up to the second story.

Charley and Byleth back off and hide in some nearby shrubbery. I pull myself up and peek through the cracks of the window cover. It doesn't seem like there's anyone inside, but that doesn't mean someone can't be lying in wait around the corner. I place my hand over my ear and listen.

Nobody is hiding off to the sides of the window. I remove the wooden cover and climb into the building. A bed with a wrinkly blanket sits over in the corner. The sheets and pillow case have recently been replaced though.

On the other side of the room is a bookshelf that's been completely filled with literature of all kind. I make my way over and examine everything that's been cataloged. Most of them are just about the history of Fodlan and crest mumbo jumbo. Stuff you'd see in an actual library owned by the church. I place my finger on the books and run it across. Judging by the condition and cleanliness of the room, this has to belong to that scribe that's been stalking Charley.

The faint outline of a white symbol resting on a black spine grabs my attention. This bizarre looking symbol is being carried by a wreath. Right in the middle of the markings rests something that resembles an eye. The intimidating look of the symbol is more than enough to get it censored by the church. Which is probably why it's here. However, it isn't stealing if it's from a criminal, and what Rhea doesn't know won't hurt her.

I put the book in my side satchel and press on. Outside the bedroom is a flight of stairs that lead down. I keep my hand on my sword and progress down the stairs.

Bumps on the back of my neck form the moment my boots touch the first floor. A chill lines my throat, and I dodge forward. The sound of a massive object striking the ground echoes off the walls as I draw my sword and swing. Sparks from colliding metal paint the dull, iron mask a faint shade of gold.

"So glad to meet the sword saint himself. Not once, but twice." Faceless states as she points a massive great sword twice the size of my claymore at me.

"Where's the kid?" I ask.

"Upstairs. A pity we didn't just kill her, but the superiors wouldn't want her missing out on all the fun." Faceless replies as she scoots her left foot behind her. I unlock the front door and fling it open as she takes off.

"Artorias! Wait!" Byleth yells.

I put my sword away and pursue Faceless upstairs. She barges through a closed door, jumps out the window and grabs onto the window ledge of the building across. Faceless lowers herself down and takes off towards the bridge. My weight shifts forward the moment my feet hit the ground as I roll and continue after her.

Up ahead is a group of knights that have their backs turned to us. She readies her great sword and holds it out like she's preparing to strike.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" I scream as loud as possible.

The group looks back in my direction. Faceless flips forward through the air and drives her sword into the shoulder of her target. The blade slices clean through his leather armor and cleaves down to where his chest is. She spins around and slashes in a huge horizontal sweep.

Nobody makes a sound as the weapon cuts through everyone. Red trails behind the silver glint emitted from the sword. A perfect circle forms around her as she spins the blade upside down and flicks the dripping crimson off the colorless weapon. This woman just took out six men in a matter of moments.

"No!" Byleth yells from behind me.

I hop over the group of dead men and continue onward. Byleth kneels down by the men and tries to see if there's anything he can do while Charley runs after me. Faceless steps onto the bridge and jumps to the support beams below. I climb over the railing and swing over to the platform Faceless is standing on. She firmly grasps her sword with both hands and lets it rest by her side.

Although I have the size advantage in the tighter areas with the support beams, the place is still open enough for her to swing from the left, the right, the ground or above. Which means there is no room to dodge out of the way.

Faceless places her knees on the ground and gets into a pouncing position. She lunges up into the air and dives directly at me. I step back and leap over the massive swing aimed for my torso. Faceless spins in the opposite direction and slashes again. I pull my sword halfway out of the sheathe and block the incoming attack.

The force of a charging cavalry horse slams into me. The entire weight of my body is thrown backwards. I roll up to my feet and fully unsheathe the sword. Black steel and blood-stained quartz collide with such force that blue sparks flutter through the moonlit shadows.

Faceless and I both jump up at the same time and cross our blades midair. She places her foot on my chest as I place mine on her stomach. We shove each other back and take up defensive positions. I cross my arms, bend my knees and aim the tip of my sword at her. She gets into her pouncing position again and jumps. Our weapons collide again, and we engage.

"Kick her face in! Give that bitch one of those blade flurries you can throw!" Charley cheers from above.

I ignore his support and jeering since his excitement is spurring him to try and encourage what I should do. As nice as it is, it's actually giving Faceless an idea what my next move is. She backs off and rams her blade into the stone platform.

A small cloud forms around the impact, and she throws it up into the air. Small pebbles strike my face, and a thin layer of dust coats my eyelids. The grains within her sword flex from above. I sidestep, flip my sword upside down and back off.

"Ah come on! That was cheap!" Charley yells.

"QUIET!" I shout.

"He knows what he's doing." Claude states.

Charley sighs in disappointment and tries to contain himself. His excitement has attracted a crowd of students. Someone must have looked out their window and seen me chasing after Faceless. They then proceeded to tell everyone in the dorms instead of informing Catherine or Alois.

All of them converse back and forth with one another and speculate on what's going to happen. Although Faceless thinks she's getting the drop, I can hear the grains in her sword rattling around, and the vibrations given off by her gentle footsteps clues me in on her position.

She gently crouches down, and the crowd goes silent. I place my free hand on the side of my sword and take up a stance that gives the impression that I'm lowering my guard.

Faceless pounces. I summon some mana into my right hand and step out of range. Her weapon barely misses my chest as I use my sword to shove her attack off course. Faceless tries to correct herself and spins around. Her weapon knocks my sword out of my hand.

The moment the sword hits the wall, the phantom blade within the contraption on my right arm deploys, and I manipulate the momentum of her attack to my benefit. The ringed blade hooks what feels like her stomach and slices through. Faceless grunts and backs off as I wipe the dust from my eyes.

Faceless places her hand on her stomach and takes a deep breath. The wound suddenly closes itself and her new scar reabsorbs the blood dripping out of the wound. No magic, no healing. Nothing.

"Only a coward uses something like that." She states as my phantom blade folds back up.

"Who are you to lecture me about honor?" I reply.

The entire crowd cheers, but Charley is the loudest. Faceless crouches down again as I draw my claymore. Intense heat strikes me in the face, and a blinding, orange light explodes between the both of us. Faceless staggers back as I cover my eyes and try to get away from the sudden source of mana.

A wall of fire separates the both of us. Flames lick the bottom of the bridge and scorch the stone black. Standing in the middle of the blazing storm are two people.

"It is no use. You are no match for the sword saint. That is, as of now." A unique and raspy metal voice states.

That's not Skullface's voice. His voice is a lot deeper and sounds almost like a vengeful demon parading around underneath that mask. This other voice sounds lighter but doesn't lose any of its strength. It's got an elegant resonance about it unlike Skullface's.

The flames slowly die down, but a strong ring of flames about waist high continues to surround the group. Standing in the middle is the one that made the statement about me. A black cloak with red highlights cover a suit of grey steel armor.

The front of their helmet is covered with a white mask painted with flames. A huge red comb crafted out of pegasus hair drapes across the scalp of the helmet. Thick, red wyvern feathers flare out the tapered shoulders and give the person a much larger, intimidating form.

"Ah come on. I just getting warmed up." Faceless whines as she tosses her great sword over her shoulder.

"If you consider a gaping wound across your gut warming up, then you aren't going to survive the actual fight." Skullface states.

"When you are at your fullest, then you may pursue the sword saint, and Rhea's knights with all your heart. Until then, this fight is over." The red menace adds.

"HEY! If you're thinking about ganging up on him! FORGET IT!" Charley yells as he drops down behind me.

"Charley! Get back up on the bridge!" I yell as he draws his hammer and charges towards the group. I grab his shoulder and push him back. Charley resists and tries to get past me because he is convinced it's not over.

"Charley, stop this right now!" I try to say as calmly as possible. He continues to try and push past.

I drop my claymore, hook my right arm under his right arm and wrap my right leg against his. Charley staggers and tries to regain his balance. I press my weight forward and tackle him to the ground. Byleth drops down and takes up his sword.

"Where is Flayn!?" Byleth yells.

"She has served her purpose." Skullface states.

"What purpose!?"

"The purpose of the Flame Emperor. An emperor who will purge this wicked land of the sins it has reveled in." Faceless replies as points to the person wearing the white mask.

"Artorias!" Byleth yells.

Something strikes me in my right shoulder. A wave of pain hits my arm and ripples through my entire body. Charley stops struggling as I gnash my teeth. A throwing knife juts out of the crevice where my armor plating separates from one another.

"Something to remember me by." Faceless taunts as she waves goodbye.

The flames surrounding them rise, and they disappear in an explosive puff of smoke. Byleth covers his eyes and coughs as a thick cloud of ash covers their escape. I get off Charley and lean up against a support beam. The dagger didn't hit anything vital, but it still hurts. I grab the dagger and yank. The barbs rip small chunks of flesh out of the open wound as blood pours down my arm.

"Artorias…I didn't…"

"Just… go home and think about what you have done, and commit to learning from your mistake." I interrupt.

As mad as Charley has made me, I'm not going to lash out. I understand that he probably interpreted the Flame Emperor's declaration a lie, but I knew Faceless was up to something. Then when Charley jumped down, it made him a target.

"Yes Artorias…" Charley says with a solemn voice. He climbs back up and shoves his way through the crowd.

"Can you make it up?" Byleth asks as he hands me my claymore and sword.

"She managed to hit me where my arm pivots, but I think I can."

"Get back everyone!" Claude yells as he pushes the crowd back.

Byleth jumps up and scales over the bridge's ledge. I grab a hold of the ledge with my left hand and haul myself up. The tip of my elbow hooks the edge of the bridge, and I throw my right leg up. Byleth grabs my forearm while Felix and Claude firmly grasp my leg, and the back of my armor.

They pull me over and help me stand. Everyone in the crowd makes way as Byleth, Claude and Felix escort me in the direction of Rhea's throne room.

"They said Flayn was in that house I broke into. I suggest you get over there now before this flame emperor changes their mind." I say to Byleth.

"Are you going to be alright?" Byleth asks.

"I've survived worse than this."

"You go get the missing kid teach. We'll help Artorias." Claude says.

"Alright. You two take him to Honora." Byleth replies.

"You know, I am more than capable of walking myself." I state.

"Yeah, but where's the glory of saying the sword saint needed us to carry him after he got scratched?" Claude teases.

"You're quite the story teller. Maybe in the future, the scribes can write that down as a fable." I reply.

"Hey now, there's always a hint of truth behind a fable."

"The key word is hint. As in, almost none." I poke back.

Byleth breaks off from the group and heads towards the dormitory. Hopefully the kid is still there. Otherwise, we'll have a whole new crisis on our hands. Maybe Faceless and her group finally got lost for good.

I doubt he would have any trouble dealing with Faceless or Skullface, but it still worries me. Byleth is a very capable fighter, but Faceless isn't necessarily some fool swinging a giant hunk of metal. Especially if it was a great sword.

There was almost no wasted movement, and she killed an entire squad of knights with just two flicks of her sword. Her stance is something I have never seen either. She stayed in a pouncing position almost the entire time. When the time called for it, she would swing normally, but that rarely happened. The one time it did was when she panicked. Once the death of those knights and our battle temper her mind, she'll be a lot more difficult to deal with.

The guards posted at the entrance of Rhea's throne room open the door for us. Seteth suddenly turns around but sighs from the anticipation of false joy. Honora covers her mouth and rushes over to me.

"What happened?"

"I found those responsible." I answer Honora.

"What about Flayn?" Seteth asks.

"Byleth's on his way to rescue her."

Claude and Felix help me sit down as Honora unhooks the right gauntlet from the main chest piece. The cotton from my shirt peels the fresh clot out of the wound, and blood gushes down my bare torso. Honora shakes her head back and forth and quietly sighs at the severity of the wound.

"I don't know what she threw, but she got you good." Felix states.

"And she hit him in that tiny area where the armor playing doesn't overlap. That's almost a clean cut all the way through the muscle." Claude adds.

Honora tries to summon some mana into her hand, but I stop her attempt to heal me, "that won't be necessary."

Honora shakes her head as she walks over to a table and grabs some medicinal wine. I pull the cork out of the gourd and douse my shoulder with it. The alcohol within the highly concentrated wine coats the inside of the wound with a sanitized layer of agony.

I grind my teeth and refuse to show any pain. Honora's eyes develop a glassy looking sheen as she tries to summon a fireball. I take a hold of her hand and give her the notion I'll do it myself.

Mana flows into my left palm and forms a tiny fireball at the very tip of my index finger. Honora grabs my right hand and holds it as she looks away. I place the flame into the wound. The intense chill of ice turns the wound numb for a moment, but a huge wave of anguish causes me to flinch. Honora squeezes my hand to help alleviate some of the pain, but it brings little comfort.

Fire gobbles up the alcohol within the wine, and a blue trail pours out of the open wound. Black smoke bellows from the opening as the hole slowly closes itself. The smell of burnt hair and evaporated juice fill the room as the flesh around the wound forms a thick, black crust. I close my eyes and let out a pain ridden breath. Honora places her free hand on the wound and summons a small amount of mana.

The pain slowly fades away as Honora softly chants some kind of hymn dedicated to Sothis. She removes her hand and dusts the black dust off her palms. Underneath is a fresh scar that's just been sealed shut.

Even though Honora could have just healed me without going through this process, that would have required a lot of input from her. I've seen Honora heal a lot of people in a lot worse condition than me, but I have noticed that she seems really stressed afterwards.

It worries me that even though white casters maybe helping people, it could be taking a toll on them in exchange. Nothing is gained unless something is given, and it troubles me that Honora would have to give up part of herself to help me. Since we did things my way, the wound was cleansed, fixed and sealed shut. All Honora did was use a little bit of her mana to help ease the pain.

"I hate it when you do things this way." Honora says with a stifled cry.

"It helps you out. Doesn't it?" I reply.

"That's a price I'm willing to pay if it eases your suffering." Honora answers as she looks at me with tear stained eyes.

"And any pain is worth suffering if it protects you." I state as I place my hand on her powder blue hair and gently smile.

Honora wipes her eyes and points at my arm, "Can you move your arm now?"

I take a deep breath and barely move my right arm, "Nope. It hurts way too much. I might need some more of your mana in order to feel better."

"You're such a liar." Honora softly giggles as she lifts my right arm up.

Seteth hands me a carved-out wyvern horn filled with red drinking wine and sits down across from me, "If you have any further pain, this will help."

"Thank you."

"So who did this to you?" Seteth asks.

"I call her Faceless."

"Yeah. The woman fights like a monster." Claude interrupts.

"She even crawls like one when she fights." Felix adds.

"Her and the death knight are working for someone called the flame emperor." I state as I take a sip of the wine.

Soured grape juice, and the taste of wyvern bone coats the inside of my mouth and stings the back of my throat. Maybe that tobacco I was smoking earlier wasn't so bad after all. The church always haggle me about smoking. Yet, I fail to see how they drink this on a daily basis.

"Flame Emperor?"

"After he appeared, the death knight said Flayn served her purpose. Shortly after they left, Byleth went to go check the dorm we broke into because Faceless teased she was possibly hidden somewhere in those rooms." I answer as I finish the grape mash. The bite of bitter juice, but the realization that I finally finished this death brew stirs within me as I exhale in satisfaction.

Seteth grabs a steelhead spear from the weapon rack and leaves. I'd join him, but I don't feel like arguing with Honora over why I should. She's going to overact and get mad if I say anything resembling on fighting in my current state. Honora takes a seat right beside me as Felix approaches.

"Artorias."

"Yes Felix."

"Since I was a boy, I have studied Fodlan's way of the sword. Very few people can defeat me in a duel, but the way you beat me in two moves with no weapon and defeated the one called Faceless while blinded leads me to believe that you are one of the strongest swordsmen I've ever encountered."

"Sounds like you are looking for another duel."

"The idea that there is someone more powerful than myself is what drives me to be my best. Therefore, I would like for you to consider a rematch."

"My only terms are Byleth and your house leader must sign off when they think you're ready. Once they give me the word, then we'll have a fight."

"I look forward to it." He states.

Byleth and Seteth walk into the throne room. Behind them are a group of knights in circle formation. In the middle of the group is the Flayn kid. I guess Faceless wasn't lying about her being in that dorm room. Despite her being kidnapped, Flayn seems relatively calm. There isn't any visible signs of abuse. Nor does she look traumatized.

What did they do to her exactly? Kidnap her for shock value? Was it the Flame Emperor's attempt to try and scare Rhea by implying nobody is safe from the Death Knight or Faceless? These are questions that need to be answered.

Byleth and Seteth head into Rhea's chamber room and shut the door. I guess they are having a private meeting on what should be done. Flayn urges the knights to let her through so she can come talk.

"You okay?" Flayn asks.

"I could ask the same." I reply.

"I'm fine. How about you Artorias?"

"Good."

"My brother said you got stabbed."

I point the new scar on my right shoulder, "Yup. Throwing knife hit me right there."

"Looks like it hurt." Flayn clicks her tongue.

"Not my worst injury."

I won't ask about what happened to her, or how everything played out. When the time comes, Byleth will inform me with all the details. Right now, the kid is safe, and that's what the focus should be on.

"Misses Honora. How are you?" Flayn asks.

"Taking care of Artorias here. He actually made me mad earlier."

"No! What did he do?" Flayn exclaims.

"He wouldn't let me heal him."

"Honora, you know how I feel about using white magic on serious wounds."

"And I'm telling you nothing happens if the caster is strong enough." Honora states.

"Nothing is gained if something isn't given."

"I'll tell you what I gain from that catch phrase, a headache." She teases.

"Oh, a comedian, aren't we?" I say as I pull the silk veil on Honora's headdress over her face.

She pats the side of my head and places her middle finger on my ear. A sharp pain similar to a hornet sting tears into the side of my face. She flicks the tip of my ear again, and I let go of her veil. The urge to flick her ear tries to come over me, but I take a deep breath and back off. Honora laughs as I try to work some feeling back into the side of my face.

"I've never really seen this side of you Artorias. You're always so serious." Flayn giggles.

"Artorias is a big doll once you get to know him. Isn't that right?" Honora states as she leans on my shoulder.

"I suppose."

The door to Rhea's chamber opens up and Seteth walks out. Judging by the look on his face, he is rather disappointed about something. My intuition tells me that he's probably found some way to yell at me, so I'll use this as an excuse to take my leave.

"Honora, I'm feeling a lecture coming on, so I'm going to head out." I say as I pick my armor up.

"Okay. I'll see you later." Honora replies.

Flayn places her hands into her chest and takes a deep breath, "Hey Artorias…"

"Yes?"

"I hope you don't take this as an insult, but '_thank you_.'" She says in mother's language.

My mind stops for a brief moment, and the realization that she actually remembered what I taught her fills me with dread. That day by the pond when she was asking about all the casual formalities such as _please, thank you, I'm sorry_, she took to heart. This was never supposed to happen, but why is this small sense of dread being overshadowed with happiness? I'll give her the satisfaction of knowing that I'm proud she remembered. Even though it goes against everything I was taught.

"_You're welcome_."

I leave the room, put my armor on and latch my gauntlet back up to the chest piece. There's still one more thing to do. With all that's happened, tonight would be a good opportunity to go talk to Edelgard, but she can wait until I finish this other task first. My mind wonders over to Charley and what he's doing now. Hopefully he hasn't done something stupid because I don't feel like chasing him down.

It's bad enough he humiliated us in front of everybody, and even though I got struck with a throwing knife, I can't bring myself to yell at the kid. Yes, it is his fault, and yes, we are going to talk, but I can't bring myself to be angry at him. If anything, I was mad at the situation.

I make my way out Garreg Mach's front gates and take the road that leads to Charley's house. The town patrol is scouring the entire village for any evidence or signs left over from Faceless, and The Death Knight. Since they haven't turned anything over, and nobody else has went missing, it's somewhat safe to assume that they are gone. For now.

Charley is sitting on the river bank in front of his house. His arms buckle his legs together and his knees act as a cushion for his face. The wooden handle from his hammer is sticking out from the bubbling stream. It appears he threw it in a fit of rage because there are several indentions within the muddy gravel where the hammer's head hit the ground and rolled.

He is completely unaware of my presence as I sit down beside him. What should I do? Say something? Touch his shoulder? Go steal a loaf of bread from the baker and give it as a peace offering? Given the circumstance, stealing some pumpernickel would have probably been the best thing, but it didn't cross my mind until I got here. Maybe I'll do that once we patch things up.

"Charley?"

He remains silent and continues to use his knees as a means of comfort. I reach out and touch his shoulder. Charley shakes his head no and turns his back to me. Still upset. Disappointing, but predicable.

"You can ignore me all you want, but I'm not going anywhere. I sit under waterfalls from dawn to noon, so I am a very patient man."

Charley scoots away from me and retakes his shameful seat. He is trying to control his breathing and hold it in, but deep down, he can't. I can feel it in his heart. Why? Because I used to do the same exact thing when I messed up. He thinks the entire world is against him now. I didn't want to play this game, but he leaves me no choice;

"_The seasons they turn, winter to spring. Dulling the pain and erasing the sting. The seasons turn, summer to fall, time's warm embrace begins to heal all."_

"I have no idea what you are saying, but I'm sure it's about my incompetence." Charley's muffled voice escapes through his lap.

"No, it's actually a verse from a song. It talks about how wounds heal."

"Well too bad nothing can fix what I've done."

"Trust me son. What you did is nothing compared to what I've seen in my lifetime." I state.

"You took a throwing dagger to the chest because of me! Why are you taking this with such a grain of sand!?"

"Shoulder."

Charley lets out a frustrated sigh and slightly turns in my direction. Although he tries to hide it, the shame painted on his face is immeasurable, "I know what you are going to say."

"What am I going to say?"

"That I'm just a stupid boy playing with a man's weapon."

"Wrong. Guess again." I reply.

"I'm a stupid boy masquerading as a solider."

"And that was a stupid answer. Guess again."

"What is it then!?" Charley yells at me.

His sudden, emotional outburst causes me to clench my teeth. No matter how hard I fight it, it gets the better of me. A small chuckle quickly escalates into a hardy laugh. All those times mother would just laugh at me when I'd make a dumb statement finally makes sense.

"What's funny?" Charley asks.

"Oh nothing. I just remembered a time I was your age." I catch my breath and exhale, "You want the truth? Okay. I'm not mad at you."

"How!? I disobeyed and got you hurt!"

"True, and you should let this be a lesson on why you should listen to me, but I'm not going to let that blind me to why you disobeyed. You were hurt and blinded by anger, but that's what happens when you let your feelings control you. You were oblivious that Faceless was going to throw something at me anyway. When you jumped down, that made you the target."

Charley reflects on what happened and realizes I am right.

"I'll be honest. The moment Faceless focused on you, I was afraid you were going to die, and that scared me beyond any reason." I state.

Charley's face slightly sags as he interprets my words. His chest heaves, and a small cough exits his mouth. As he blinks, a tear leaks out of his left eye. He breathes again, and the small tear turns into a stream that leaks out both eyes. Charley leans in my direction and throws his arms around me. I put my hand on the back of his head and guide it into my left shoulder.

Charley finally lets go of everything he's been holding onto. As emotional as I feel, I hold it in. I do not look down on those that cry. Nor do I see it as weakness when knights shed tears, but shadows such as myself are strictly forbidden from this expression because we have to be the ones to offer comfort. For a shadow to act as a beacon of strength, yet cry is hypocritical.

I wipe the tears Charley's eyes and walk over to where his hammer is sticking out of the water. "Do you plan on walking around without a weapon? What if someone were to ambush you?" I tease.

"Then I'd just sucker punch them. Just like you would." He giggles in between a choked cry. "What do you plan on doing?"

"I am going to go talk to the Adrestian Empress."

Charley grabs his hammer and mounts it on his back, "about what?"

"About Hanneman's progress on finding a substitution for the crest system. Also, the battle of the Eagle and Lion is coming up, and I need to see if you've been paying attention to my teachings." I state.

"Wait, you're not enrolling me with the Black Eagle house, are you?"

"No, but I want you to fight with them in next month's mock battle. That way I can evaluate your growth."

Charley looks down at the ground and assumes that what I said about finding a new mentor is true.

"I'm not going to leave you. I promise."

"But what if Edelgard and her house wants me to join?" Charley asks.

"Then I guess we'll have to become protectors of the Black Eagles house." I answer.

Charley lets out a sigh of relief and wipes his face again. He reaches over and puts his arm around my shoulder. I pull him in and ruffle his pink hair. He playfully punches me in the side as we laugh and make our way down the street.

"Listen Charley. I was a fool for saying what I did earlier. But the truth is, I can't imagine where I'd be if I would have never met you. Jeralt was right. The only problems between us were the ones I was creating, but I swear from here on out, I'm going to be damn sure on turning you into a man Garreg Mach will respect and envy." I say.

"And as your student, I will give no less than two hundred percent. Now let's go meet the royal Highness." Charley replies…


	18. Chapter 17

The commotion from the Flame Emperor is going to have everyone riled up until morning. Which means classes will more than likely be canceled until Garreg Mach has been properly secured. In the courtyard where the classrooms are, Hanneman, Byleth and Manuela are dividing the students up by their house and doing headcounts. Groups of five are dismissed and escorted back to their dorm rooms by the knights.

I place my thumb on the guard of my sword and hold it in place as I walk by the golden deer house. Akumu tries to kick itself out the moment I come within range of Marianne. Red mist still spews out of the tiny gap between the guard and sheathe. Akumu must really hate Marianne, because it has never misbehaved this much. I don't know why though.

Marianne is quiet and kind. A little bit on the depressing side and socially awkward at times, but I think that mainly stems out of the stage of life she's at as well as her own insecurities as a person. Something everyone struggles with.

Hanneman is counting the students from Adrestia. The only people I don't see are Edelgard and Hubert, but everyone else from the black eagle house is here. Charley tries to stick close, but he ends up getting lost in the group. It's alright though. He'll catch up.

Hanneman gathers about five people and dismisses them. I press forward and assimilate in the next group. Hanneman points at each person and counts off, "one, two, three, fou..." He catches himself halfway through the four and points back at me, "You don't count. Three, four, five."

The group leaves, and I stand right beside Hanneman, "How have you been old man?"

"I'd rather be in bed, but I'm here." He replies.

"Have you seen Edelgard?"

"No."

"What about Hubert?"

"Him either. They were probably the smart ones and stayed in their rooms when this Flame Emperor made his appearance." Hanneman says as he counts five more students. Charley finally works his way up to the front row and presses through the group.

"You get lost?" Hanneman asks.

"Following Artorias through a crowd is no easy task." Charley answers.

"He does tend to disappear when given the slightest opportunity." Hanneman teases.

"It's what I do best." I say.

Charley follows after me as we head to the dormitory stairs. "Do you think she's even awake?" He asks.

"With the students slamming their doors and knights shouting orders, it'd be almost impossible to stay asleep." I reply as I knock on Edelgard's door.

"_Who is it?"_

"Artorias. I am here to deliver a message to the Empress of Adrestia."

"_Alright. Give me a moment."_

Her wooden closet door closes. She must be putting her robe on over the night gown. The bedroom door scrapes against the floor as she peeks in between the crack. Charley makes sure his armor is straight and that he looks somewhat presentable.

"Come in. Come in. Have a seat anywhere." Edelgard says as she opens the door and welcomes us with an outstretched hand.

Charley looks in the opposite direction and tries to avoid staring at Edelgard. Even though she's wearing the appropriate clothing underneath her red robe, Charley is still a young man with a wondering mind.

"Eye contact only. Eye contact only." Charley whispers to himself as he inhales and takes a seat beside me.

Edelgard sits down across from us and picks up a bread knife. She cuts a couple pieces off a half loaf of sprout grain bread and carefully places them on some clean plates leftover from dinner. Charley reaches out in joy, but he catches himself. He looks at me as I stare into his soul with a stern gaze.

"Thank you Empress Edelgard." Charley says as he places his hands together and bows.

"No need to be formal, and help yourself to the blue berries and honey." She says with a smile.

Charley grabs his piece of bread and douses it with honey. He sinks his teeth into the outer crust and breaks off a huge chunk as honey drips down his chin. The mere sight of Charley causes Edelgard to laugh. Even though it's somewhat humiliating, I can't help but smile.

Artorias?"

I wave my hand and politely decline, "no thank you Edelgard."

"Very well. So how can I help you?"

"I don't know if you heard, but that Flayn girl was kidnapped."

"I did hear about that. Some people said they also found a missing student named Monica." Edelgard replies.

"For a while, Hanneman was unable to do any research. Now that the looming threat of the death knight and his accomplice is gone, Hanneman should be able to get back on track."

"How's that going?"

"Hanneman would be further a long, but with what's happened here the last couple months, his progress has been stalled."

"Curses." Edelgard says under her breath. "Does he have any idea how much longer it will take?"

"Hanneman is working on several projects that involve the wielder's ability to use mana, but we haven't tested them yet. So we could have some results in the next couple days." I answer.

"Excellent." Edelgard sighs in relief.

Her reaction tells me that this is the first bit of good news she has heard in a while. As ambitious as Edelgard is, it's difficult to tell her to be patient. Ever since that day she told me about the dream she had for Fodlan's future, I told her I'd help achieve that goal as long as our mission against the church was void of any bloodshed.

As much as Rhea and Seteth despise me, killing the very people who gave me a home would be dishonorable. If anything, I'd rather see them, and the nobles stripped of their titles and forced to live on equal terms just like the commoners have for the last several centuries.

A country where titles are achieved by merit and hard work rather than birthrights. For so long, it only seemed like some dream Edelgard rambled on about while drunk. Almost three years have passed since that conversation by the fishing pond, and now, we are closer than ever before.

Edelard picks up the plate with the bread and offers it to me again, "Are you sure you aren't hungry? I heard you got into a pretty nasty fight underneath the bridge."

"I am fine. Seteth made me drink some wine, and that stuff tends to numb my sense of taste."

"Very well then. Charley?"

He raises his hand and shake his head yes, "I'll take his cut...That's if it's okay with you and Edelgard…"

"Only if you finish it." I state.

"Yes!" Charley lets out a soft cheer.

Edelgard hands him my piece of bread. He takes the knife, splits the loaf in half and fills it with honey and blueberries.

"I'm guessing the leftovers from the church isn't ever enough?" Edelgard asks.

"Well…it gets me and Artorias by, but it's taught me that food like this is only great if it's enjoyed occasionally." Charley replies.

Charley's response sparks an interest in Edelgard. Something within her mind has clicked. She sits up straight and insinuates that she wants to talk. I nudge Charley with my elbow, and he looks at me. I motion that he has Edelgard's attention. He quickly swallows, puts his fruit sandwich down and wipes his mouth with one of the cloth napkins on the table.

"Humble I see. I like that. What else has Artorias taught you?"

"Well. Artorias is not only teaching me how to fight, but he's teaching me how his ideals formed a code different from Fodlan's." Charley says.

"So you're learning more than just how to swing a weapon?"

"Yes. Artorias said he was going to do everything he could to make me into a man Garreg Mach would envy and respect." He answers Edelgard.

"What do you mean by that?" She asks.

"Charley will have the ability, and the mind to stop wars if need be." I reply.

Edelgard sits back in her chair and thinks while Charley resumes eating his sandwich. Up to this point, I've only taught him about honor, and how it is only achieved by strength that's tempered by humility, and fortified with kindness. However, if Charley is to have the strength, and the wisdom to end fights before they begin, then I must resort to teaching him what Fodlan looks down upon.

"Edelgard, I know this is sudden, but I was wondering if you would let Charley fight alongside your house next month." I say.

"Of course. I'll accept him as our honorary guest, but you'll still be responsible for his training." Edelgard replies.

"Thank you."

Charley throws his arms up into the air, "yay! I'm a temporary student of Garreg Mach!"

His sudden outburst causes Edelgard to laugh again. It's nice to know Charley feels like he belongs somewhere now. Yet, I still get to participate in his upbringing. Now that it has time to set in, the idea of seeing him follow someone like Katherine drives me crazy.

"What do you specialize in?" Edelgard asks.

"Well, I am anti-armor, and I'm good with a sling."

"How good?"

"I can hit a moving target about fifty paces away. Hammer skills? I wouldn't say beginner tier, but I'm not a war master. At least, not yet."

"Good. When the Eagle and Lion battle takes place, I am going to task you with protecting my healer Linhardt, and the archer, Bernadette."

"I will give everything I have to ensure they make it to the end." Charley states.

I stand up and notion that Charley and I need to get going, "Edelgard. May we be excused?"

"You are dismissed."

We wave her goodbye and head back downstairs. I reach into my side satchel and feel around for my rolling papers. My hand brushes over the leather spine of something big. Oh yeah, I forgot about the book.

"Where did you get that?" Charley asks as I pull it out and open it up.

"I found it."

The weight of the pages feel heavy compared to other books. Not only that, they have a strange, leathery and yellow texture to them. The writing is part of the Fodlan alphabet, but the ink is a blotchy red in some parts, and meadow green in the others. Charley and I sit down on a nearby bench and hold it next to the torch light.

The current page has some very strange looking symbols. They're circles someone would use to cast magic, but for some reason, they have a much more sinister look. I flip the page. Sketches and drawings of men decapitating wyverns and using their bones and hearts to make weapons decorate the page. Some are filling goblets with dripping blood and drinking it. The next page over are people developing crests and using relics to slay entire villages of people.

"Artorias?"

"Yeah?"

"What in Serios' holy name did you find?" Charley asks as he points to the picture of an eviscerated wyvern being put out on display for a cheerful crowd.

I turn the page, "I have no idea."

"Sweet Sothis…" Charley states as he points to the cheerful crowd bathing and playing in the wyvern's body.

"Whoever wrote this book sure didn't spare any of the gory details." I reply as I flip to the first page and try to find the author of this demented book.

The only thing I can find that somewhat resembles a name or alias is CEK. No wonder Rhea and Seteth freak out over literature like this. I've seen some pretty messed up stuff on my travels throughout Fodlan, but this CEK character really takes the bread and marmalade.

Just holding this on the monastery ground makes me feel like I'm going to burst into flames, but for some reason, it intrigues me. People are told that relics and crests were rewards given to the faithful. Yet, this book contradicts everything Rhea has been preaching. Something about slaughtering a wyvern, playing with its organs and drinking blood doesn't really sound like a blessing to me, and I don't even consider myself a religious person. Whoever these people are, they are absolute lunatics.

"Hey Artorias, look! It's a caption about the Tailtean Plains!" Charley points to a picture of a huge wyvern;

_Since the death of Nemesis, our people have nearly been wiped out as a result. If only they would have sent me and his elites to the frontline, then we would have secured our rightful place as the lords of this world. _

_It wouldn't have been an easy task, but with Nemesis' swordsmanship, the skills from his ten elite soldiers, and my knowledge of crests and blood arcane, the immaculate one herself would have been begging for a quick death that day at the Tailtean plains. However, when the time comes, and come it shall, the immaculate one and her saints will fulfill their true purpose for this world, and that's as weapons for my collection._

"Oh boy…This CEK guy sounds like a real bastard." Charley says.

"He certainly does." I reply as I focus on the words '_blood arcane_._'_

Not very many people know how to utilize blood arcane. Nor do they attempt it because of how dangerous it is. Even though my skills in black magic would be considered master class, I rarely resort to using blood arcane unless the situation desperately calls for it.

Spells can be infused with the user's blood to greatly increase the efficiency of the magic. Depending on what spell, and how much blood is used determines the overall power and quality of the cast. Which is why I worry about Honora when she casts her healing spells.

If too much is used, or the caster isn't powerful enough, then it can potentially kill them if they can't stop or control their output. The fact that CEK feels confident enough on taking down the immaculate one, and the saints by his own ability in blood arcane must mean there is something in here I can learn.

Charley places his hand on my shoulder and acts like he's patting me out of friendship. I close the book and put it back in my side satchel. Someone is approaching us from the side.

"How are you Professor?" Charley asks.

"I am fine. What are you two doing out so late?" Byleth asks.

"We were having a discussion about what happened earlier, and that I'm not angry at him." I answer.

"What were you reading?"

"Oh, just some journal entries from my childhood."

"I see. Is everything good now?"

"Of course. Please, have a seat." I say.

Byleth sits down beside me, "How's your arm?"

"It's fine."

"Good."

"I was talking with Edelgard when you, Hanneman and Manuela were doing headcounts. She said something about someone else being with Flayn." I say.

"Yes. I don't know her name, but we found them both behind a secret passage in that dorm room."

"Were either of them hurt?"

"No visible signs of abuse. However, there was a little stab wound on Flayn's arm, but she didn't seem bothered by it when she woke up."

"Well now that Flayn is safe, what's the next step?" I ask.

"Rhea and Seteth have agreed to put Flayn in my class. Rhea thinks she will be safe there."

"I'm guessing Seteth was hard headed about it?" I ask.

"You have no idea, but he finally agreed when Rhea said her decision was final."

Byleth lets out a sigh and looks up at the sky, "What is that man's problem? I've never done anything wrong, and yet, it feels like he's always looking for my faults."

"Don't take it too hard. People could simply exist and Seteth would have a problem with it." I state.

"I bet you of all people would know about that."

"Everyday. Yet for some reason, it feels like Seteth's distrust towards everyone stems out of a past event, and I can't say I blame him. People can't be trusted these days. No matter how honorable they appear." I state.

"What makes you say that?"

"Take that suspected scribe. If Skullface was able to kidnap Flayn and hide her in a secret passage only Rhea and Seteth should know about, then that means the scribe would have had to have been giving information to Skullface for a long time. Patrol routes, hidden passages, areas best for an ambush. Stuff like that."

"It's easier to destroy something from within than fighting from the outside."

"You're absolutely right Charley." I say. "It takes a shadow to kill a shadow. That's why Rhea wants me to hunt them down because I understand how these methods work."

"Is that why she looks down on you?" Byleth asks.

"I don't know. Maybe. Even before we properly met, I could tell by her smirky glare that she hated me. Same goes for Seteth. Anyway, enough about that. What's the plan now?"

We are proceeding to next month's event. The battle of the Eagle and Lion. Are you going to participate?" Byleth says.

"No, but Charley is going to enter with the Black Eagles so I can evaluate him. What about you?"

"I don't think professors can enter, so it will more than likely be a battle between who the better house leader is. Why? Who were you going to route for?"

"Personally, I am not routing for a particular house, but a particular student. He could be the last one standing, or the first one out. Regardless of the outcome, I'll be cheering for him the whole time. Do you have any idea who this student could be?" I tease as I look at Charley.

"It wouldn't be Felix, would it?" He pokes back.

"Well if that's the case, I really need to rethink my priorities." I answer.

"Well, if it is me you are talking about, then I guess I have no choice but to give it my all." Charley says with a smug smile…

**End of the Horsebow Moon Arc…**


	19. Chapter 18

Charley clenches his training hammer and prepares for battle. I hold my wooden sword out in front of me and shuffle in his direction. Charley plants his feet into the ground and takes up a strong, defensive stance. He holds his hammer out in front of him and readies himself.

I raise my sword above my head. The head of his hammer connects with the wood and throws it off course. Charley readjusts his hands on the hammer's shaft and counterattacks with a sweep. I step back and use my sword to swat the attack away.

Charley changes his stance and uses the extra momentum from my deflection to swing from above. I spin out of the way and swipe. The wood from the sword slams into the handle of his hammer as Charley uses it to protect himself from the blow. I kick the hammer out of Charley's hand, and he backs away.

He grabs the wooden training sword fastened to his belt and draws. Our weapons collide, and I engage him in a manner any knight would. He holds the sword in front of him and blocks all the attacks. I let him deflect one of my swings, and he goes on the offensive.

We cross our swords, and I intentionally lock our weapons up in a test of strength. Charley manipulates the weight of my sword and uses my stance as leverage to push me into a striking position. He hits my stomach, spins behind me and strikes my back.

"Well done Charley." I say as I put my training sword up.

"Something tells me you let me do that." He replies.

"A mentor must be willing to accept occasional failure so that his pupil can succeed."

Charley puts his hand on his chest and tries to slow his breathing. His heart is beating so fast that it sounds like it's going to blow out his chest. The thrill from the training combined with the joy of knowing that he can properly protect himself against moderately skilled knights has sent him into a frenzy. He should be ready for anything in the upcoming mock battle tomorrow.

I pick up a wooden stick and look for a soft patch of dirt, "Charley?"

"Yes Artorias?"

"I think it's time we have a little talk."

I point to a small clearing that has some dirt that can be drawn in. Charley finds a place he can sit down and folds his legs in, "You have my attention."

I draw four symbols that represent the four virtues of what it takes to be a man.

"Temperance is the virtue of self-restraint. Not lashing out at others from one's own ill will. Fortitude is having courage in times of desperation. Justice isn't always about delivering adjudication, but knowing when to accept judgement as well. Wisdom is the final virtue, yet the most important. It consists of the knowledge gained from failure."

"How is this different from what is taught at Garreg Mach?" Charley asks.

"The professors at Garreg Mach are responsible for creating knights capable of carrying out orders. Some try to instill values into their students, but because of teenager's internal fascination with war and bloodshed, students tend to forget these morals and act upon their desires."

"Then what makes me so different from all the other students?" Charley asks.

"Finish this phrase for me, 'a wise warrior never looks for war…'"

"'But must always be ready for it.'"

I point the stick at him, "That is why you are my pupil."

"Is it because I was the only one that finished the phrase?"

"That's one theory, but I have noticed that you don't go around looking for fights when you learn a new technique. Nor do you promote your skill for admiration."

"You're always saying stuff about how it could end up in the wrong hands. I think I understand now. You believe your methods should only belong to those responsible enough to use it." Charley states as he studies the structure of the four symbols.

"The techniques I have developed from Fodlan's system of the sword, and my upbringing can overcome any combative situation to this day. If my knowledge is passed down to the wrong person, and they teach it to the wrong group, the Leicester Alliance, Faerghus Kingdom, and Adrestian Empire would be in a constant state of war." I reply.

The sound of metal gears grinding against one another and distant rumbling catches my attention. I turn around and see a group of knights headed our away. Red, Adrestian flags whip in the wind within a circle of horses. In the middle of the convoy is a huge, metal carriage of blackened steel.

Charley and I give an acknowledging nod to the Adrestian knight approaching us. My horse Glitter, and Charley's white horse are hitched to the back of the carriage. They're not part of the main work force, so if I get bored, then I can ride off.

"Artorias, Empress Edelgard is seeking an audience with you and your apprentice." the knight says.

"Very good."

Charley stands up, and we follow him to the carriage's side. The knight knocks on the door. Metallic tumblers slide out of their locks, and the carriage opens up.

"Artorias, care to join me and lady Edelgard?" Hubert asks in his monotone voice.

A gust of fragrant wind blows out of the elegant looking room. Pots filled with jasmine and carnation pedals are scattered all over the place. Edelgard is sitting behind a desk in the back and writing on a piece of paper.

"Artorias! Charley! Please have a seat!" She says as she dunks her feather quill into a bottle of black ink.

"Edelgard and I were having a discussion about the future." Hubert says as the three of us sit down in front of her desk.

"What do you have so far?" I ask.

"Not much, but I've been using my experience as the emperor's daughter to build a foundation. For one, I want to do away with monarchs and establish a system where nobles receive their power from the people rather than birthright. I'm just not sure how to go about it." Edelgard says as she leans back in her chair and scratches her head.

I don't have the slightest idea how governments work. Nor do I know what a monarch is, but one thing I do know is people don't like being told what to do. That is, unless you give them a choice.

"Well, some of the isolated villages I'd been to had their own system of self-governing."

"Interesting. How did this system work?" Edelgard asks as she grabs her quill from the ink bottle.

"Keep in mind I traveled a lot, but with what I observed, the elders would come together and appoint a leader, a judge and a writer. The position depended on what they were responsible for. Writers often wrote the laws for the village to abide by. However, the elders, judge and leader had to agree that the law was just. Once they came to an agreement, the leader was responsible for enforcing the laws while the judge made sure the proper punishment was given if someone broke it."

"Could you repeat what you said about the agreement part?" Edelgard asks as she re-inks her quill.

"The writer wrote the laws, but the judge, leader, and elders had to come to an agreement for it to be put into place." I reply.

Edelgard dunks her quill several times, "to be…put…into…place…"

She opens the red book off to her side and flips through the blank pages. Each section is dedicated to a certain aspect of law, power, and life. She dries the ink and places the piece of paper into the law section. It must be a collection of ideas that she will sift through and refine before writing in the actual book. She's already taking the precautions and necessary steps to rebuilding Fodlan.

One question lingers in my mind though. What exactly are we going to do with the crest bearers and relics? Will they still have a place in society? Yes, we are going to be stripping them of their titles, but what about the ones that are going to put up a fight?

Now that I think about it, this coup d e-tat is going to escalate if gone about the wrong way. Once nobles realize they can't flaunt a relic and crest around, and that everyone is on equal terms, some aren't going to give up their luxurious lifestyle willingly.

"Hey Edelgard, I was thinking about the nobles."

"Yes?"

"What are we going to do if some try to resist? I mean, you can't force change unless someone is willing to accept it." I state.

"That's what I've been worried about. Hopefully when I am appointed the Emperor of Adrestia, my name alone will garner the respect of all the nobles in Fodlan. That's why I've tried to socialize and learn the structures of the other nations." She replies with a frustrated sigh.

"Well maybe you can put Hanneman's inventions to work in Adrestia first. Once people see that your country uses a system based on merit, Faerghus and Leister will notice that your system is superior. Therefore, you've united the Fodlan under your cause without violence." Charley says.

"But that might take too long! I know patience is key, but I don't have much time left!" Edelgard blurts out. She realizes what she said and quickly covers her mouth.

The carriage gets so quiet that I can hear the metal horse shoes pounding against the soft ground outside. Charley sits there in confusion as I think back to that day Edelgard and I were drinking tea together. We were just having a causal conversation about life, and what we planned on doing in the future. Deep down, I could tell she was hiding something, but I didn't want to ask because I believe timing is everything.

Edelgard clenches her fists and bites her bottom lip, "Meeting adjourned…I'll see you when we get to Grounder…" She quickly rushes off into her personal room and slams the door shut.

The springs of a mattress bend and flex as Edelgard flops on her bed. Her muffled sobs are absorbed by a pillow as she breaks down into tears. Charley quietly asks Hubert about what's going on, but he closes his eyes and sits there in his silent state.

"What did she mean?" Charley whispers to me.

"Nothing." I reply as I walk over to her door and knock, "Hey Edelgard, Charley and I are going to go on and ride out to Grounder."

There is no answer because the moment she opens her mouth, her voice is going to crack. I know she is mourning the losses she's endured, but Charley doesn't. If someone other than me and Hubert were to know that the Adrestian Empress was crying, she'd be made into a laughing stock.

"Excuse me gentlemen, could you come to a stop? Lady Edelgard has excused our guests." Hubert says to the commandeers up front.

The carriage stops moving, and a knock from the outside signals that it's safe to exit. Hubert lowers the door and Charley takes the steps down. I follow behind him, and we help the knight shut the carriage door.

Charley mounts his white horse as I seat myself in Glitter's saddle. We break off from the caravan and head in the direction of Grounder Field. I spur Glitter's side, and she accelerates into a slow trot.

We take the lead over the carriage and put some distance between us to give them the impression we are gone. Even though it would be impossible for them to hear us at this distance, I don't want to take that chance.

"So…What was that about back there?" Charley asks.

"As you noticed, Edelgard has white hair."

"Yeah?"

"It's because she has two crests."

"Two crests? How?" He gasps.

"It's because one was forcefully placed on her body. She was kidnapped and experimented on. With what I've seen in my travels, that's probably just the surface of her issues."

"Sick bastards." Charley scowls.

"When Edelgard said she didn't have much time left, it's because her life was drastically shortened. Her life was stolen by wicked people." I say.

Charley is speechless at the statement. That's why Edelgard and I get along so well is because both of us learned at a very young age how horrific life can really be. She was a victim evil unleashed its hatred against, and I've witnessed the traumatic states people are left in because of such atrocious acts.

However, what makes Edelgard a stronger person over me is she didn't have anyone during her suffering. When something was weighing on my mind, or when I was in pain, I had someone watching over me. Someone that loved me to the point that she would sacrifice her life to protect me. Edelgard had nothing other than her own willpower and love of life to propel her forward.

I pull back on the reins and Glitter slows down as we slowly approach the border of Adrestia. Up ahead are the hills that separate Garreg Mach from Grounder Field. Several scouts from both the church as well as the Adrestian empire keep watch over the road leading into the valley. On the west side is the campsite for the Blue Lions. To the south is where the Black Eagles are positioned, and to the very north of the field is where the Golden Deer will be posted.

Somewhere on Grounder Field itself will be where Rhea, Seteth, their advisors as well as the Serios knights will be. Since Charley is part of Edelgard's house, he will have to bunk with the black eagles for the night. For me, I am supposed to bunk in the middle with Rhea and the church staff, but instead, I'll take my stuff and set up outside to the east.

The knights standing guard outside notify the messengers. The young boys take off towards the middle to relay that me and Charley have arrived. Sounds of training weapons scraping across one travel through the camp. Fireballs, jets of water, jagged boulders, and gusts of razor wind obliterate the wooden dummies within some makeshift trenches.

We get off our horses and hitch them to the post at the entrance of the campsite. Charley and I make our way up through the middle where the main fire is. Caspar runs a sharp knife down a piece of wood and shapes the tip into a makeshift skewer. Dorothea is sitting beside him with a burlap sack. She reaches in and pulls out a couple vegetables and some salt. Sitting across from her is a male student reading a book on black magic.

Hanneman is walking back and forth with a piece of paper and giving out orders on who is bunking with who, and what everyone's responsibility is for the night. Charley takes a seat by the boy reading the book.

"I'm going to go collect my stuff for the night." I say.

"Alright. I'll tell you where I'll be staying when you get back." Charley replies.

I make my way through the droves of students swarming the multiple pathways that snake through the black eagles campsite. If this is what one campsite looks like, then the other two have to have just as many, if not more students. How exactly do they plan on fitting all these kids in a small valley?

With the several scenarios I've seen during my time at Garreg Mach, it was mainly the house leaders, and their elites battling it out. However, there wasn't this many students participating in the past. Maybe Rhea actually intends to reenact this massive, set piece battle this time. If so, it's going to be a very long day tomorrow.

I reach the edge of the black eagles camp and step onto the patch of land that separates one site from the other. On the ridge to my left are blue banners waving the Faerghus flag. Up ahead is the Serios campsite, and beyond that is where the Leicester house is positioned.

I look for anything that might help Edelgard's house out, but there isn't much. In the middle is a stone foundation where a ballista tower or catapult used to set a long time ago, but it's nothing but a heap of broken wood and rock now.

I don't care much about Fodlan's history, but I understand why Adrestia lost this battle. There were just too many odds working against them. Bad entrance, bad positioning, and being overly exposed. Every year I've been at Garreg Mach, the black eagles have never won this mock battle.

Over those years however, I have seen all but one play, and I do think it maybe the key to success. There is a gulley that separates Leicester from the valley. I don't wonder too far because someone will get the impression that I am scouting, and anyone will look for a reason for a disqualification.

Judging from where I am, the gulley is not that deep, and there is a creek that runs through. It doesn't look shallow, but it isn't deep either. It should be enough to hide under if one completely submerges themselves underneath the water. All I can do now is relay this information to Charley. Once he sees what I'm talking about, he'll know what to do.

I approach the quartermaster at the Serios campsite, "Artorias. I need my bedding, a couple logs, and a shovel."

The quartermaster gets up and heads into the supplies tent. He comes back out with a pillow, some bedding, a couple logs, and a shovel. They are expecting me to bunk with someone. Which if it was who it was last year, I'd rather sleep naked in the coldest part of Fodlan.

"If anyone asks, I'll be up by that tree to the east. Unless it's Catherine. Then I went for a walk."

"Nobody other than Rhea and Seteth will know where you are at." The quartermaster replies.

I throw the shovel of my shoulder and head back to the black eagles campsite. Charley and the boy he was sitting next to are having a casual conversation about their training, and what they are expected to do tomorrow.

Charley looks in my direction and points, "That's my mentor I was telling you about. Artorias, this is Fletcher, and the both of us have been assigned to the same squad."

"Under who?" I ask.

"Hubert. He's our captain." Fletcher replies.

"We're also bunking together. So we have been trying to establish some kind of relationship before tomorrow's big battle." Charley states.

"Where are you staying?"

"I'll show you." Fletcher says as he stands up.

I follow Charley and Fletcher to the west end of the camp, "Right here." Fletcher states as he points to the third tent on the left.

"Alright. Well I'll be staying up there by that tree to the east if you need me." I reply.

"You're more than welcome to stay with us if you want." Fletcher says.

"Nah, it's okay. If anyone saw me in the tent with the black eagle students, they might accuse me of giving you information."

"Oh yeah. I forgot about your specialty." Charley says.

"Before I go."

"Yes?"

"The creek." I state.

A confused look comes over Charley's face as he dwells on my statement. When tomorrow comes, he'll know what to do when he sees it. If Charley can successfully use what I taught him, then they might be able to gain an upper hand. It won't be enough to win the battle, but it will level the playing field.

I make my way up the hill and sit down underneath the tree. The shade from the leaves above, and the occasional cool breeze helps relieve the heat of the afternoon. I plant the tip of the shovel into the ground and press down.

The metal cleaves through the soft dirt as I pitch it off to the side and carve out a pit, and some air holes. Even though we have knights constantly patrolling the perimeter, it gives me peace of mind knowing that my presence is still concealed.

I tunnel through the dirt and connect the airholes to the main fire pit to help combat smoke output. It won't be entirely smokeless, but it will make it much harder to see and detect from a distance.

I gather some twigs and toss them into the main pit. An orange ball of mana seeps out of my palm and slithers up my hand. A cone of fire streams out of my index finger and engulfs the dry sticks. I carefully sit a couple logs into the pit and scorch the bark. The small flames from the twigs slowly climb up and burns itself into the blackened wood.

This should be enough to get me through the night. I roll out my bedding and sit down. Now that there's nobody around, it's time to do a little more studying. I pull out the black book by CEK and flip around. Two words I've been noticing a lot here lately is Nabeteans and Agarthans. From my understanding, these two groups of people used to live together a long time ago.

The context of the book makes it seem like the author of this book was an Agarthan since it has a lot of entries talking about forbidden spells and rituals Serios found abominable. There's also the violent depictions of people killing dragons just for the sole purpose of making weapons and creating crests.

The word _spider-bite blood mark_ catches my attention, and I flip back a page. There is an image of a man carving a spider like creature into his hand with a chisel. The next drawing is the man drawing blood which causes the self-inflicted scar to glow black.

There isn't any more images that give a demonstration when this power is used. The fact that I never heard of this must mean it's really powerful, very rare, or extremely dangerous. The next couple of pages consist of more markings and how to carve them into yourself. The ones that stick out the most are spider-bite, blood wing, and devil's mouth.

What's the worst that could happen? I flip to the page describing the spider bite mark and examine the details of the carving. It looks like it has to be engraved onto the palm in order to work. I take my right gauntlet off and place the tip of my dagger into the padding of my hand. One leg has to branch out to the pinky and the thumb, while the index, middle and ring finger need two legs each.

"Artorias? What are you doing?"

"Removing a splinter." I reply as I barely prick my hand and act like I'm looking.

The mere thought of trying to solve the mystery of these markings overcame my ability to think rationally. So much so that I actually let Honora sneak up on me. I flex my hand a couple times to give the impression that the splinter is gone.

"What are you doing here?" I ask as I close the book and put it away in my side satchel.

"The quartermaster said I would find you here." She says.

"Rhea send you?"

"No. I came on my own accord because I thought you could use some company. I'm not bothering you, am I?"

No, no…Not at all." I reply as I put my dagger away.

"Well good."

Honora lays her bedding down on the other side of the fire. I cinch my gauntlet back up and clear my mind. The blood arcane will have to wait. If I let it distract me to the point that someone was able to get the drop on me, then it can't have any priority as of now.

She sits down beside me on my bedding and takes her headdress off. The white veil releases Honora's powder blue hair as she runs her hand along her scalp. Off to the west, the amber sun is slowly descending over the horizon. Honora locks her arms around her legs and stares at the approaching sunset.

Flowers dance to the gentle beat of the breeze within untouched green meadows and shadows reach out as far as they can. The creek I was telling Charley about turns from a bright blue to a vibrant road of gold.

"Can you believe this view?" She says with a blissful face.

"You know, for once, I can't." I reply as I take a deep breath and let this moment sweep me away in its absolute beauty.

As someone who gets to witness scenery like this all the time, it tends to lose its appeal after constant exposure. Almost every time I've seen something like this, I've been alone, and at a point, I couldn't see the value anymore. My perception has become rigid and stale, and I've been underplaying the value of nature's subtle tranquility.

With Honora by my side, she helped me realize the foolishness I was blind to. Not only that, but it is actually kind of nice to share something like this with her. Honora spends a majority of her time locked up in a room. Always having to be in constant prayer, and not being allowed outside the monastery without an escort. She doesn't share the same freedom I do because her ability is only allowed by what the church decides.

"Thank you." I say.

Honora looks over at me, "For what?"

"You of all people know how negative I can truly be, but the one thing that always cheered me up was scenery like this. Over time though, I lost sight of the thing that made me realize that there is a life outside of this eternal battle I am forced to fight. It wasn't until now that I realized just how precious moments like this can be."

"Well moments like this are better shared." Honora lays her head on her knees and smiles.

I seriously thought Rhea sent her up here to make sure I wasn't gathering intel to give to Edelgard's house. The fact she came up here on her own accord makes me feel something I have never really felt before.

"Do you intend on staying the entire night up here?" I ask.

"I don't see why I can't. You seem like a pretty trustworthy person."

"But I'm… '**not a knight**.' I scoff.

"Yet, you seem to follow the code of Knight's chivalry."

"Oh, chivalry is that lame joke someone tells at a wedding."

"Artorias."

"No, it is."

"Then what forms the basis of your life?" Honora asks.

"I'd like to think of myself as someone who looks for the most peaceful method possible, but I still have room for improvement in that area." I reply.

"You sound a lot like my father. He's always writing me letters about how he's trying to keep the peace around Fodlan and Almyra's borders. Yet, he always beats himself up when he's got to kill any Almyrians trying to attack Fodlan's throat. Sometimes, peace isn't about preserving, but pursing those that threaten it." Honora states.

Dusk gives way to night, and the orange sky turns dark. Honora yawns and rubs her eyes, "Well, I'm off to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

She lays down on my bedding and covers herself up. I get up and toss some more wood onto the fire. That should keep burning until morning. Since Honora had to take my bedding, I'll just lay on hers on the other side of the fire. Something snags my right hand and stops me in my tracks.

"Artorias?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not used to sleeping outside, and with what happened at Conand Tower, it scares me that there are more of those things out there. Can I be by your side tonight?" Honora asks.

"Sure."

I gather her bedding up and place it by mine. The fabric overlaps one another, and I lay down beside her. Honora let's out a sigh of relief as she rolls over on her side. I place a dagger underneath my pillow and face her direction.

Honora smiles and touches the tip of my nose, "Goodnight Artorias."

"Goodnight Honora…"


	20. Chapter 19

Yellow light tries to claw its way underneath my eyes. I roll onto my stomach and throw the blanket over my face. Honora yawns and sits up on her side of the bedding. Judging by her small grunt, the morning sun is trying to blind her as well.

My eyes slowly adjust to the suppressed daylight that penetrates through the blackened wool. I yank the blanket off the top of my head and check around our campsite. Honora is rubbing the sleep out of her watery eyes, and the fire from last night has completely burned out. Despite us being exposed to the elements, it was surprisingly warm. Honora was fast asleep the entire night, and she didn't even notice the times I got up to secure the location.

"Morning Artorias."

"Good morning Honora."

"How did you sleep last night?" She asks.

"Pretty good. You?"

"It's been a long time since I've been out in the wilderness, but it was very relaxing." She answers.

"Good. That's good." I state as I sit down at the bend of the hill and pull out my monocular.

Some of the early risers are practicing their techniques and preparing mentally for the upcoming battle. I look over at the Black Eagles training pits. That boy named Fletcher is tossing fireballs into the mounds.

He spins around and drives his foot into the ground. A small chunk of earth flies up into the air. Fletcher drives both of his palms into the rock and sends it into the mound. So this kid is a mage? Interesting.

Off to the side, Charley is striking a practice dummy. He drives his hammer into the ground, flips over the handle and draws his sword from a sheathed position. The wooden blade strikes the dummy in the neck as he backs off and practices his overhead swings.

I look out over to where Faerghus' Blue Lions are camped and examine their training pit. I can definitely see Felix practicing his technique against a training dummy. He is using a more traditional style of sword art built around dodging and aggression rather than deflecting and trying to break posture.

"I reckon it's time we head down." Honora says as she puts her headdress on.

Honora and I collect our bedding and head down to the Black Eagles campsite. We'll just leave it with the quartermaster there. It will eventually make its way back to the Serios campsite before the end of the day.

"I'm going to head back to my tent. I'll see you later." Honora says as we drop our bedding off.

We wave each other goodbye, and she heads toward the Serios campground. I press on towards the training pits. Fletcher is now practicing his razor wind and water spells. Charley holds his sword above his head and strikes the dummy's shoulder. He switches the position of his sword and slashes upward, and then swings horizontally in a wide arc.

The wooden pole buried in the dirt causes the dummy to stagger. Charley dashes forward and rams his elbow into the chest. The impact pushes the dummy back into the ideal striking range. The wooden sword hits the dummy, and Charley drags the blade across the chest. Almost like he's severing the cords of the heart.

I slap my hands together, and the metallic clack of my gauntlets catch his attention, "Well done Charley."

"Thank you Artorias." He says with an honorable nod.

"Is there anything you want to cover before the fight?"

"Could you help me practice my defense?"

"Sure."

I take a wooden sword from the weapon rack and hold it off to one side of my body. Charley picks his hammer up and gets ready. I run towards him and slash. Charley knocks the attack off course and counter swings. I jump out of reach and charge forward. He barely dodges the tip of my sword. I keep up the pressure to try and prevent him from coming up with a strategy.

We engage one another, and my constant assault forces him to stay on the defensive. Charley deflects one of my attacks and swings overhead. I spin out of the way and stomp the handle with my right leg. Before he can react, I point the tip of my blade at his face and give him the impression he's lost.

"Remind me to never overhead swing again." Charley says as he hooks his hammer on his back sheathe.

"Nobody knows how to do that without getting themselves killed. So you'll be fine." I reply as I lower the weapon.

"As long as it isn't you." Charley states.

I put the wooden sword back on the weapon rack. If he can survive that, then he should be ready. However, this event worries me. I know it's just a mock battle, but what if Charley gets knocked out?

Does that mean in an actual fight, he could potentially die? In the past, this didn't really worry me because he was always by my side, and if something happened, I could protect him. When this starts, we'll be separated. If he gets into trouble, I won't be there.

Charley sits down where Fletcher is practicing his magic spells and intently watches. Fletcher holds up his left hand and draws some humidity out of the air. Water wraps around his fingers and form what looks like chainmail wire. He chops the air with his hand and sends the water into a wooden board that's been set up.

Fletcher walks over to the board and touches it with his index finger. A section of the wood moves in, and a puff of sawdust bursts out of the cuts in the wood. The board falls into four even pieces.

"That was awesome!" Charley cheers and claps.

"Master Hanneman taught me that." Fletcher says.

"Water and wind. Just like the old man." I state.

"He is currently teaching me fire, and I must say, fire is probably the most difficult to control."

"It can be tricky to master." I reply.

"I heard Master Hanneman was also the one that taught you wind, water and earth."

"If it didn't involve fire or lighting, he taught me everything I know." I answer.

Off in the distance, a silver banner waving the Church's emblem is making its way towards the Black Eagles camp. That must mean it's almost time for the mock battle to begin. Charley notices the banner and takes a deep breath.

"Artorias?"

"Yes Charley?"

"Does it ever feel like you're ready for something, but when the time actually comes, you have second thoughts?"

"All the time."

"Do you really think I can do this?"

"I know you can." I reply with confidence.

Charley stands up and clenches his fist, "I promise to make proud Artorias."

Charley and Fletcher make their way to the middle of the campsite. To the west of the field is where Rhea, Seteth, Honora, and the knights are positioned. Sitting underneath the tree Honora and I stayed last night are Hanneman, Jeralt and Byleth. I make my back up the hill and take a seat between Byleth and Hanneman.

"What brings you here to my spot?" I ask as I take my monocular out.

"Nothing in particular. Just looking to enjoy the fight with someone who's not a fanatic." Jeralt states as he takes a sip from his flask.

Rhea looks over at Honora and issues the command. Honora closes her eyes and releases a huge amount of white magic. Gold chains shoot out from the blue sky above and encase the battlefield in her mana suppressing spell.

I scan the south side of the field and try to locate Charley's squad. Edelgard is pacing back and forth in front of the army and giving a speech. She's not dressed in any kind of armor. All Edelgard is wearing is her Garreg Mach officer uniform.

I catch a glimpse of pink within the endless sea of leather caps and red combs mounted on metal helmets. Charley is standing between Fletcher, and that Bernadetta girl with the purple hair. If he was in charge of protecting Linhardt and Bernadetta, then that must mean they are part of Hubert's squad as well.

Edelgard's army raise their weapons and let out a battle cry as Edelgard turns around and directs specific squads to certain positions on the field. Charley approaches Edelgard and whispers something in her ear. The look on her face indicates that what he suggested is going to be very risky but worth a try.

She pulls Hubert over and discreetly points to the east. Charley must have told them about the creek. If Hubert can get the squad over to the gulley, Charley can handle the rest. Edelgard sends a small unit to the east. Charley and his squad assimilate within their ranks and try to keep a low profile.

To the west, Faerghus' Blue Lions and Adrestia's Black Eagles have engaged. Which means it won't be long until Leicester's Golden Deer move in. Charley and his team move to the edge of the unit's formation and break off. The five of them stick low to the ground and make their way into the gulley. So far, so good.

"You're being awfully quiet. Is something wrong?" Jeralt asks.

"I'm just watching over my pupil is all." I reply.

Hubert, and the squad stick to the banks while Charley leads the way in the chest high water. He stops and dives under. Hubert, and the others duck behind some boulders that rest up against the gulley walls. I clench my fist in satisfaction as Charley's squad avoids being detected by some Leicester students.

Charley slowly breaks the surface of the water and checks his surroundings. He keeps everything below his nose submerged as he crouch walks through the water. His squad sticks low to the ground and moves up as he does.

I scout the battlefield and look for anything that might challenge Charley. So far, most of the fighting has spilled onto the actual field from the west and south. Training weapons slap against one another as mages and archers offer support from the rear guard. Students that have been injured are being dragged off by their house's healers.

I examine the next battalion marching out from Faerghus' direction. Within their ranks are Annette, Felix, and a couple other students. Annette and her small group make their way to the edge of the battalion. She makes sure it's clear and jumps into the gulley Charley and them are treading through.

"Oh no…This is bad…" I say as I intently watch Felix and the others.

What I've feared has come to pass. Annette and Felix remembered what I said at Conand Tower. However, this can be a positive thing. Out of the three houses, Leicester has the advantage because they have the gulley that separates them from the main field, but the only way to the fight is across one narrow bridge.

If Charley's team can sever Leicester's reinforcements, then they can focus solely on Annette and her group. Charley hides underneath the overcast shadow of the bridge and waits.

Bernadetta notches an arrow as a battalion crosses the bridge. Among them are Claude. He seems to be the first to set foot onto the battlefield. Charley studies the passing envoy and looks back at Hubert. Hubert nods his head yes.

Charley takes a deep breath and waits for the chaos of war to start. Claude and his army engage with Faerghus. Charley climbs out of the gulley and charges the rear guard. Bernadetta and Linhardt quickly scale up and follow while Fletcher jumps up to the bridge.

He slams his fist into the ground and yanks up several sheets of rock that completely block both ends of the bridge off. The only way Leicester can send for reinforcements now is if they cross through the gulley, and with Annette and Hubert's group already in position, it would be very difficult to cross without suffering heavy losses.

Fletcher spins around, tucks his arms into this body and takes a step forward. A pillar of rock sprouts out from the ground in front of Bernadetta. She jumps onto the rising platform and takes aim at Claude. The training arrow soars towards his back. I bite the metal of my gauntlet in anticipation.

Claude snaps around and shoots the arrow out of the air. Standing by his side is Lysithea. She is pointing in the direction the arrow came from. Lysithea hurls a fireball at the pillar and knocks Bernadetta off. Fletcher quickly pulls up some more pillars for everyone to take cover behind.

Claude says something to Lysithea and points to Hubert. She nods and makes her way towards him. Fletcher takes off in Hubert's direction, but a gust of razor wind stops him in his tracks. Annette climbs out of the gulley and engages him. Half of Annette's squad charges Claude's group while the other half prevent Leicester's reinforcements from crossing the gulley.

Charley and Felix notice that they are both on the same side of the field. Even though I can't hear the words, Felix displays a cold sense of joy as he approaches Charley.

The motions of Charley's lips form the words, "You maybe the best student swordsman at Garreg Mach, but you don't scare me anymore."

"Then allow me to enlighten you on why I have that title." Felix replies.

Charley swings his hammer. Felix dodges out of the way and rushes in. Charley traps the wooden sword in the neck of his weapon and throws it off course. Felix jumps back as Charley spins around and swings. Excitement, stress, happiness, and anger fill my heart as the both of them attempt to hit one another in a rapidly escalating game.

Felix charges up and slams his sword into Charley's hammer as hard as he can. The force knocks Charley off balance, and he staggers back. Felix brings his sword back and gets into a thrusting position.

"Dodge…Dodge! Dodge!" I yell.

Charley regains his balance as the blade flies towards him. Out of reflex, he barely sidesteps and clamps his arm down.

"Is he… NO! The blade is edge down! He's still in!" I joyfully cheer.

Charley and Felix are locked up in a test of strength, and neither have the slightest idea what to do next. Charley is trying to use the hammer's handle to shove Felix down, and Felix is trying to retrieve his sword.

"Find your leverage! You know what to do!" I exclaim with a frantic jump.

Felix leans back and shoulder checks Charley in the chest. Both of their heads collide and Charley rolls back. Felix grabs his face and tries to collect himself as Charley skids across the ground. He staggers to his feet and drunkenly sways back and forth. Charley realizes that his hammer is gone and immediately draws his sword.

Red pours out of a gash above his brow and coats his left eye. Felix doesn't appear to be bleeding, but water pours out of his right eye. They aren't tears, but early signs of a black eye. The sight of Charley bleeding enrages me.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jeralt asks as he grabs my arm.

"I've got to stop this."

"It's just a mock battle Artorias. A little blood never hurt anyone." Jeralt replies.

"I don't care."

"Listen to me! Win or lose, Charley is never going to forgive you for interfering! His honor is on the line, and it would be humiliating if his mentor barged in over a little scuffle!" Jeralt adds.

I let out a disappointed sigh and sit, "You're right."

"I understand how you feel, but you need to learn that the boy can fend for himself." Jeralt says as he takes another sip out of his flask.

I shift my focus back onto the battlefield, "you of all people probably learned that the hard way."

"I certainly did." Jeralt replies.

Charley and Felix are slamming their wooden swords together and circling around. Felix is sticking to his aggressive hit and run style while Charley focuses on deflecting and delivering blows that can break posture.

Felix closes in and strikes. Charley blocks the attack but is unable to successfully parry. Felix spins around and delivers another blow. The odd timing catches Charley off guard, and Felix lands an attack on Charley's leg. Felix continues to space out his slashes that disrupt the flow of battle.

Charley blocks what he can, but the onslaught of strikes cause him to falter. Felix positions himself into a thrusting position and lunges forward. The tip of his wooden blade strikes Charley right in the middle of his metal chest piece. The impact causes the sword to splinter out and burst into pieces.

Horror fills my eyes as Charley spirals through the air and violently tumbles across the ground. Felix throws his broken handle down and picks Charley's training blade up.

"Artorias! It's just a mock battle!" Byleth states as he grabs my chest piece and tries to hold me in place.

Charley works his hands underneath his body and pushes. His elbows wobble, and he trembles as his knees prop his body up. Charley works his feet underneath him and gasps for air. Felix realizes that Charley isn't through yet. He takes up his sword and readies himself.

Charley forces himself to take a step in Felix's direction. His sense of balance has been disabled temporarily, and he is staggering all over the place. Charley's shoulders sag a couple paces in front of Felix, and his face plows straight into the ground. Blood streams down the side of his face and pools around his cheeks.

"Goddamnit!" I curse myself.

It didn't occur to me that somebody like Felix would know how to manipulate the flow of battle. At least I know what we need to work on now. Still, it doesn't help the anger I feel towards myself.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. He's only been under your guidance for a short time. There's no way the boy is going to learn everything in the span of four or five months." Jeralt states.

"But if this was an actual battle, he'd be dead." I reply.

"You should be thankful that this is an experience both of you can learn from. Now that you know what he's struggling with, you can take the proper steps towards preventing this from happening on a real battlefield." Hanneman says.

"You're right." I sigh. "It's just the thought…"

Hanneman reaches over and touches my shoulder, "What do you think goes through my mind when you go out on missions?"

His words catch me off guard as we blankly stare at one another. I process what he says and dwell on it. The memories of how he used to be my mentor in that black magic master class returns.

A series of visions fill my head of how we used to spar with one another in front of the class. After the day Hanneman announced that Rhea and Garreg Mach could acknowledge me as an S rated black caster, Hanneman told me that he was still going to worry about me. Being an S rated swordsman didn't quell his anxiety either.

Hanneman said that; "_no matter the mission, and no matter the prowess of the student, there is always the possibility of death, and that's the curse a mentor must always carry_."

"Whether you're twenty-six, or seventy-seven, you will always be my student." Hanneman says.

"Thank you, master." I nod.

We turn our attention back to the mock battle. As of now, it looks like the fight is almost over. Faerghus has Leicester completely surrounded, and Faerghus' reinforcements are finishing off the stragglers in Edelgard's army. Hubert, Bernadetta and Linhardt have been incapacitated. Fletcher is the last one standing, but he isn't going down without a fight.

Annette pulls some water from the creek below and throws it at Fletcher. He shifts a plate of rock up and blocks it. Annette collects the stream of water again and slams it against his rock shield. An arrow strikes Fletcher in the side of his chest. He flinches and drops the rock shield. Annette attacks again, and the water sweeps him down into the gulley.

It appears Faerghus is going to be the winner, but we won't really know until Rhea and Seteth announce it. However, I've seen enough. What's left of Leicester are being routed and pushed to the south boundary by Faerghus.

"Can I go now?" I ask.

"Only if you promise you won't do anything." Byleth states.

"The only thing I'm going to do is collect my pupil and leave." I reply.

Byleth and Hanneman let me go, and I make my way down to the creek. Students from all three houses lie unconscious on the battlefield. Some have managed to sit up, while others scour the field and take in the carnage that has unfolded.

Charley sits up on his knees and takes a hold of a training sword that's been dropped by one of the students. I walk over and squat down in front of him. Charley doesn't say a word as he looks up at me with a heavy, guilt ridden heart. Failure stains his face as I stare into his eyes.

"Artorias, are you…" Charley asks.

"I certainly am." I stand and hold out my hand, "care to join me?"

Charley takes a deep breath and smiles despite the feeling of defeat. We lock our hands together and I pull him up. Charley walks over to Linhardt and helps him sit.

"Here, let me get that." Linhardt summons some mana into his hand and converts it to white magic. He runs his thumb over the gash above Charley's left eye and seals the bleeding wound shut.

"Thank you." Charley says as he helps Linhardt stand.

Hubert is lying face down by the edge of the gulley, and Fletcher is over by the creek's side. The top half of his body is lying on the bank, and his legs are floating in the creek. I roll Hubert over. He springs to life and summons some mana into his hands. I deflect his hand up, and a stream of fire dissipates in the air above.

"Oh… I'm sorry…It's just…"

"Constant fighting makes everyone delusional. Don't mention it." I reply as I help him stand.

A girl from Faerghus' house jumps down into the gulley and makes her way over to Fletcher. She squats down by his side and hovers over him. She summons some mana in her hands and converts it into white magic. I put my arm in front of Charley and prevent him from jumping down into the gulley.

"She's from a rival house." Charley says.

"What's she going to do with a handful of white magic?"

The girl touches his forehead and transfers the healing over to him. Fletcher slowly opens his eyes and realizes it isn't a healer from the Black Eagles. He raises his hand like he's going to attack, but he can't bring himself to follow through. A smile comes across her face as she pulls out a vial of blue elixir.

Fletcher takes the cork out of the vial and drinks it in one swift gulp. She puts her arms around him and helps him stand up. The girl climbs out of the gulley and proceeds towards a group of injured students from Leicester, Adrestia and Faerghus. She ties her long, brown hair back with a strand of red ribbon and reaches into a side satchel. I don't know how many elixirs she has, but the girl seems determined to help everyone she can.

"Well there's something you don't see every day." Charley says.

"You don't see enough of it." I reply as we make our way off the field.

People like that are usually blessings bestowed on the world. However, they are normally the ones that catch a knife to the gut. In an actual skirmish, it is very difficult to determine if someone is trying to kill you or help. Especially if they are on the enemy side. If something like this ever does happen, hopefully she'll only be willing to save her own.

We make our way through the Black Eagles camp and towards the horses. Trumpets sound off in the distance, and signal that we have a winner. Charley doesn't really seem like he cares who won, and I can safely say the feeling is mutual.

"Hey Artorias?"

"Yes Charley?"

"Since it's still morning, can we go somewhere?"

I climb up and seat myself in Glitter's saddle, "What do you have in mind?"

"I'd just have to show you. We'd be there by midday."

"Where?"

"It's around Airmid."

"Do we have the supplies to stay overnight?"

Charley holds up a small bag of gold, "I know a tavern we can stay at."

"Then lead the way." I state…


	21. Chapter 20

The massive river that separates Adrestia and Leicester territory lies off in the distance. The fortified platform that bridges the gap between Armid and Myrddin rests above the gushing water below. Soldiers and knights from both Adrestia and Leicester patrol and guard their designated side of the river.

"Where exactly are you taking us?" I ask.

"Don't worry. We aren't going to cross the bridge."

"Good because I forgot my paperwork for free travel."

"Artorias, you and I both know you'd rather sneak across and risk getting fined than fill out paperwork." Charley says.

"Never let your talents go to waste." I reply.

Charley directs his horse onto a dirt path that branches off the main road. I haven't really been to this part of Adrestia before. In my teenage years, I remember swimming across that river and dodging the patrols as both a training exercise and to avoid paying the bridge tax, but this road is taking us up into the mountains.

Alongside both sides of the river, the knights have constructed outposts and towers that watch over the passing merchant ships and travelers. The terrain of the water shifts from a narrow river to a huge lake. Melting snow that flows through the multiple crevices help fuel the rapid expansion of this particular part of the river.

Waterfalls carefully speckle the mountain range, and fish dart through shallow pools of crystal green. Everything about this place is just so serene. There isn't a lingering feeling of having your privacy violated or having to slay a group of bandits just because you were sightseeing.

Charley points up to a trail of black smoke that bellows out of the surrounding forest, "That's where we are going."

"That isn't an ideal place for a tavern. Who's up there?"

"You'll see."

"I'm going to be very angry if it's a drunken knight camp." I state.

"It's not. I promise. Hey! How about we race up there!? The sooner we get there, the sooner you find out!"

"How about no." I reply.

"Oh, come on Artorias! You're just afraid I might win!"

"I fear nothing."

"Then race me!"

"Fine. If it makes you happy." I sigh.

"Just follow me, and we'll make it there!" Charley teases as he brings his horse to a stop. I ease Glitter up to his side.

"On the count of three! One…"

I spur my horse and rush out in front of him. "HEY! I said three you cheater!"

"You had the same idea! Don't you lie!" I answer.

The road slithers back and forth between the trees and leads us up into the mountains. Charley takes the lead for a moment, and then it shifts back to me. Both of our horses are equally matched in speed. This race is going to be determined by the horse with the most energy left in the final stretch.

The road turns to our left and branches off in several different directions. Straight ahead is where the black smoke is coming from. On the other side of a wooden bridge is a two-story house, a barn, a fire pit molded out of clay, and a chopping block. Horseshoes clack against the boards underneath as we cross over the small creek at the same time.

"I win!" Charley cheers as he brings his horse to a stop.

"Are you delirious? It's obvious that I crossed the bridge first." I reply.

"NO! You can't accept the fact you cheated and still lost!"

"It isn't cheating if you tried to cheat first."

"First of all, you got no proof I was going to cheat. Secondly, I was going to level the playing field." Charley replies as he slides out of his saddle and rushes to the house. I take the reins of his horse to prevent it from wondering off.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Charley yells as he rushes through the front door and disappears.

"Charley! How are you!?" An elderly, yet very masculine voice asks.

"I am good! Where's grandma?"

"She's gathering the side meal from the garden."

"I guess that means we'll be catching the main course?"

"Sure are!"

Charley comes out of the house with three fishing rods, some lures and a fishing creel. Behind him is a fairly old, but muscular man. His hair has lost most of its color and is caught between completely white and somewhat silver.

"Grandpa, I'd like for you to meet my teacher, Artorias."

"Hello Artorias. My name is Roland."

"I am honored to make your acquaintance." I reply.

"Charley, go find us a good fishing spot. I'm going to show Artorias where to put the horses." Roland says.

"Can do." Charley replies as he takes the rods and heads towards the creek.

Roland grabs the reins to Charley's horse and guides it over to the barn. I slide off my horse and follow.

"So I finally got to meet the man my grandson has talked about so much! I've actually been looking forward to meeting you!"

"You have?" I ask as I guide Glitter into the barn.

"Of course! He's been writing and telling us about how you saved him, and that you are in charge of making an honest man out of him!"

"What else has he told you?"

"A bunch of things, but we'll discuss that later. Right now, let's go catch dinner!" Roland states as he closes the barn doors.

Charley is sitting on the edge of the bank and tying the lures to the fishing line. Roland takes a seat and grabs one of the rods. I take the rod that has the lure dressed in dull yellow string and get out of Roland's casting arc.

Charley sits between us and throws his lure into the water. The both of them gently flick their rod and cause the lure to dart around. The line on Charley's rod jerks to the left, and he yanks to the right.

As Charley battles to get the fish to shore, I observe Roland, and the way he is fishing. He flicks his wrist, and the purple string on his lure flares out. The strings fold back up and come to a resting position. I think I see what they are doing.

The sudden motion from the rod causes the string to expand and attract attention. As the strings fold back in, it simulates a startled fish. Therefore, mimicking what a minnow or shad does when trying to escape from a potential predator. Why didn't I ever think of this?

A decent sized fish chases Roland's lure to the shallows and bites down. He yanks up and launches the fish through the air and onto the bank. Charley pulls his fish out of the water and removes the barbed hook in its mouth.

"That will cook up nice. Don't you think?" Charley asks as he shows Roland his fish.

"It certainly will." He replies as Charley puts the fish in the fishing creel.

"Have you caught anything yet Artorias?" Roland asks.

"No. I was observing. I've never really seen a technique like you use." I reply.

"You mean you've never been fishing?"

"Allow me to explain grandpa. Artorias is a very observant person. I think he's trying to say that he's never seen anyone use that flick motion we do, and he was trying to learn how it works, and why we do it. He's probably got it figured out by now." Charley states.

"The simple answer is to catch fish, but it mimics what shad and minnows do when startled by a predator." I reply.

"I see. A man that not only questions, but seeks the answers for himself." Roland states as he throws his line back out into the water.

Charley and I cast our lines out at the same exact time. My lure hits the water and sinks. I flick the pole, and the yellow lure breaks the surface. I yanked it a little too hard.

"It's all in the technique. First you do this." Charley says as he lowers his pole and flicks.

The lure travels with the current and comes to a stop. Roland hooks another fish at the river's edge and flips it onto the bank. I try to mimic what Charley is doing, but I either do it too hard, or not hard enough. This is a lot more difficult than first perceived. Charley drags another fish to shore and puts it in the fishing creel.

"Here. Let me show you." Charley says as he walks over and takes a hold of the pole with me. "Well there's the problem. You're holding a fishing pole, not a sword."

He makes me space my hands out into a more relaxed stance. We pull the lure out of the water and cast again. Charley flicks his wrist. By the feeling, it's wasting a lot of potential momentum. However, that's what my problem was. Since I was using every bit of the movement to my advantage, the motion was too strong.

The line jerks to the right, and we pull in the opposite direction. Charley lets go of the pole and leaves me to fend for myself. I drag the combative fish through the water and onto the shore. Charley and Roland clap as I unhook the fish and put it in the creel.

That was so much more effective than what I was taught. Not that I couldn't get the job done, but there were days I would sit around water for an entire day and maybe catch three or four fish. It hasn't been half a day, and we've already caught just as much, if not more.

Roland picks up the creel and motions that we have enough for dinner tonight. Charley and I follow him into the house. Sitting at the dinner table is an elderly woman peeling potatoes and putting them in a boiling pot of water.

"Grandma!"

"How's my boy?!" She answers as they both hug one another.

"Grandma, this is my teacher, Artorias!"

"Hello Artorias! I am Isolde!"

"Pleased to meet you Mrs. Isolde." I state with a noble bow. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Can you fillet fish?" Roland asks.

"Yes."

"Good. Then you can help me. Charley, you help your grandma peel the rest of those potatoes." Roland says.

"Can do." Charley answers as he grabs a spare knife.

I follow Roland outside and sit down by the fire pit. He rubs an iron skillet with some lard and puts it over the fire. I reach into the creel and pull out a fish Roland caught. The spikey fins along its back scrape at my gauntlet as I lay the fish on the chopping block. Roland runs the blade of a large knife through the fire a couple times and hands it to me.

I slap the fish above the gill plate with the spine of the knife. The fish's wild and energetic nature fades away. It stops moving and Roland hands me a scaler. I scrape it against the grain and peel all the scales off the fish's body.

"Fillets or steak?" I ask as I scale the other side.

"I'm thinking steak."

I chop the head off the fish, slice open the belly and carefully remove the organs. After the tail has been trimmed off, it might make three small steaks or two big ones. Judging by how many fish we have though, small steaks would probably be better. I make an incision and slice down. The spine breaks as the knife digs into the chopping block. I pull the knife out, make another mark and cut again.

"You've been doing this awhile. Haven't you?" Roland asks as I cut the tail off and hand him the steaks.

"I used to travel a lot, and the main part of my diet was fish and wild game."

"Ah, a vagabond. Tell me, how did you end up at Garreg Mach?" Roland asks as he drops the steaks into the skillet. The iron hisses and sears the fresh, red meat and bone of the fish. I fillet up the tail and summon a small flame at the tip of my finger.

"I got into an argument with one of Rhea's top knights, and we got into a fight. She realized I wasn't just some fool she could beat up on. Nor could the power of her crest affect me because you can't kill someone unless you hit them. A couple days later, we met again, but she wasn't alone."

"A forceful recruitment?" Roland asks as I lightly scorch both sides of the raw fish.

"Apparently, her rant about how she came to a stalemate against me caught Rhea's attention. When I saw that the archbishop herself traveled out to see me, I had two options, join or exile myself to another country."

I put a piece of the purified fish in my mouth and bite down. A smooth, light taste similar to unsalted butter releases from the meat as my teeth grinds the fish up. I hold out the other to Roland, but he politely declines and tries to hide his disgust behind a smile. I eat the other piece and snag another fish from the creel.

"So I decided to join the Church of Serios and go fight injustice." I sarcastically say as I carve up some more steaks.

"This knight you fought with. Her name wouldn't happen to be Cassandra Charon would it?"

"I've only known you for a couple moments and you already knew who I was talking about." I reply.

"I used to work for the western church, so I got to learn who all the somebodies were at Garreg Mach. The moment you said crest, rant and stalemate, I had a feeling it would be her. So, what happen?"

"I was reading my book, and Catherine being the huge pest she is, decided to hover over me and criticize my sword. I told her to get lost because she was blocking my light, and that's when she told me to draw my sword and I replied with; 'when I draw mine, someone dies.'"

"And that's when you two got into it. That sounds like her. How'd you fare?" Roland asks.

"I avoided everything she threw at me until she realized she couldn't hit me. Of course, I was reading the entire time while she was trying to kill me, so that only made her even more angry. However, what solidified our rivalry was how I received an S rating the first day the knights tested me."

"So her anger towards you stems from a grudge?"

"Catherine was on the road to becoming Garreg Mach's first S rated sword master. That day Rhea recognized me as an S rated swordsman was one of the worst days of my life because it destroyed what could have become an eventual friendship."

"Crushed dreams can really bring out the worst in people." Roland states as he flips the fish steaks over.

"As annoying as Catherine can be and how angry she can make me, I don't think she is a bad person. Ever since that day, she's been seizing every possible opportunity at gaining strength in hopes of eventually defeating me and claiming another title. Past that, I don't think she has any real goals, or motivations." I say as I slice up the last fish.

"How does it feel to be Garreg Mach's only S rated swordsman?" Roland asks.

"Pretty empty and shallow. If I could give Catherine that title, I would. That way she can see that words amount to nothing. It doesn't determine your worth because people respect the title, not the person."

Roland flips over the last fish steak and chars the other side, "I wish my own son could come to understand that. On the day he told me that my grandkids didn't have crests and was sending them to live with me broke my heart. I tried to tell him that simply having a child with a crest wouldn't bring him honor. Just because people call you a noble doesn't make you a noble person, but like many people, he wouldn't hear anything other than what he wanted."

Roland takes the blackened fish off the searing hot skillet and places them on a plate. I clean the blood off the knife and scorch the top of the chopping block with some fire. We head back into the house with the fish. Isolde is setting the table while Charley drains the boiling pot of potatoes.

Roland puts the fish in the middle of the table and washes his hands with some lye soap. I take my gauntlets off and rinse my hands. Charley places the potato pot and bread platter next to the fish and sits down.

I go back to those memories of when mother and I would sit around the table with strangers and try to remember all the manners; Don't reach too far, don't ask for more than is warranted, eat slow, don't talk with a full mouth, don't blow on the food if it's hot.

"Who wants to say grace before dinner?" Isolde asks.

"I think Artorias should." Charley teases.

"Now Charley, he is our guest. He doesn't have to if he doesn't want to."

"It's okay Mrs. Isolde. I can do it." I answer.

Charley, Roland and Isolde bow their heads in silence and join hands. Charley and Roland reach out. I don't have the slightest idea of what to do, but I take a hold and play along. Since Roland was associated with the western church at one time, maybe I should say something good about the goddess, but my entire life has consisted of saying negative things about her.

If she is real, will she even listen? Would she take it as an insult if I tried to ask for grace when all I've ever done is reject it?

"Sorry. Just trying to find the words to say."

I look around the house and try to figure something out. Maybe we should just be grateful, but if things are good, why are we asking for Sothis' grace? It's clear Charley's grandparents already have it. Maybe it's like those periods in life where you still give thanks. Even if it means you have no problems. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes;

"Sothis, I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from, but if you are listening, thank you for this opportunity I am getting to share with Charley and his family. Thank you for watching over and protecting this family, thank you for the food, and in conclusion… thank you for bringing Charley into my life."

"Amen." Charley and his grandparents say.

Roland breaks some bread and hands it to me while Charley and Isolde pass the fish and potatoes around. Seeing this reminds me of those days where these families would offer me and mother shelter and food in exchange for help. Mother would cook, clean and help the wife and daughters take care of the house while I helped the husband and his sons chop wood, hunt, or just offer protection on the way to the market.

I never really had a family after mother died, but my next prayer to Sothis will be asking if Charley will accept me into his someday…

End of the Wyvern Moon Arc…


	22. Chapter 21

Charley takes a deep breath and hops up on the railing of the bridge. I hand him the broom handle with the water buckets, and he hoists them on his shoulders. The pails try to swing back and forth, but he finds his balance and waits for the perfect opportunity to move.

Both pails stop swinging in opposite directions and Charley uses the simultaneous movement to push himself forward. A little water sloshes over the brim, and a vision of him falling off from previous attempts fill my head. My reflexes kick in and force me to reach out, but I quickly realize he's doing fine.

It's okay. Charley is going to get through it this time. I know it. He presses forward and uses the momentum of the pails, and the weight of the water to keep himself balanced. I ease off and let him focus.

Charley reaches the end of the bridge and carefully lowers the broom handle to me. He jumps off and waits for my evaluation.

I clack my gauntlets together, "You've completed the test. Congratulations."

"Yes!" Charley cheers.

It only seems like yesterday he couldn't place one foot in front of the other without bailing off to the sides. Now he is walking across the railing of a bridge with little to no error. Other than a little water sloshing over the side, he still passes.

I pick up the wooden swords and toss one to Charley, "onto our next lesson, the flow of battle, and understanding tactics."

He holds his sword out and gets into a firm stance while I think of a strategy for him to try and overcome. We've practiced this before, but I've been telling him what I am going to do, and how to effectively counter it. This time, it has to be completely random.

I hold my sword above my head and slash down. The wood of our weapons slap one another as I spin around and slash horizontally. Charley blocks and tries to go on the offensive but realizes that it isn't the ideal time. He backs off and blocks another oddly paced attack coming from the ground.

I change the positioning of my hands and slash down. The blade strikes Charley on his right shoulder. He staggers back and dodges another sweep. Charley jumps onto the bridge's railing and attacks from above. I dodge back and leap onto the railing with him.

"What is the point of this?" I ask.

"If you can't win in a level field, force your opponent into a situation where you have the advantage."

"Excellent!" I reply as we both take turns swiping at one another.

Charley hops over a sweep attack and extends his leg. His foot connects with my sword's hilt as he flips backwards and tosses a rock. I bat the rock away as Charley flies over the edge of the bridge and disappears below.

I sheathe my wooden sword and kneel on the bridge. Even though he is using the sound of the river below to mask his footsteps, I can faintly feel the vibrations of his hands as he climbs to a suitable jump spot. A spot that's too obvious. I scoot my knees apart and get into a subtle position.

The sound of something blocking the wind comes from the left. I draw my sword and slash. Charley's weapon collides with mine, and we skid across the ground. The impact causes the tip of my sword to break off as a massive crack splinters from the base of the hilt to the middle of the training blade.

Charley's left hand moves forward as the bottom part of his handle breaks in half and rolls across the ground. I examine the damage we inflicted on each other's weapon as Charley tries to keep his entire sword from falling apart. I motion that we are done with this part of the training.

"How do you do that!?" Charley asks.

"Do what?"

"That!? I was in a perfect striking position, and you still blocked my attack!"

"Because it was the perfect striking position. Now explain why you threw the rock." I ask.

"When you find yourself in a situation that can quickly overwhelm you, cause some kind of distraction, retreat and reassess the terms of engagement."

"Correct." I reply as I walk over to a nearby tree and sit down. Charley follows and sits down in front of me.

"Charley, I want you to know that your strength and ability has grown immensely since we first started, but there will come a time you won't be able to overcome your adversary, and a full retreat will be necessary. What I am about to teach you is a technique not even Rhea knows because my mother made it up."

"The archbishop herself doesn't even know?"

"As you have noticed, I am very reserved when it comes to secret techniques. That's because a shadow's most important weapon is what their opponent hasn't seen. It isn't a difficult spell to cast, but it requires a common knowledge of both the wind and warp spell. Watch closely."

I make sure nobody is around and stand up. Mana channels through my body and filters into what will be needed to cast both spells. I take a couple steps back and look for a suitable location.

A small ball of air fills my right hand, and mana for the warp swirls around in my left. Charley intently studies the details of the magic sigils on my palms. I point my left index finger in the right direction and slam my hands together.

A gust of wind spirals around my body and kicks up a cloud of dust. The power of the spell carries me out of the cloud and transports me in the direction my index finger was pointing. The dust settles and Charley uncovers his face. He zips around and looks in every direction. His eyes finally glance in my direction.

"That was awesome! How do you do that?!"

"Have you ever casted before?"

"Not really. I mean, I know that anyone can cast any element but depending on what moon they were born under determines what their strongest element is. Like me, I was born under the great tree moon, so earth and wind should be my strongest. I think…"

"That's…something I didn't know." I reply.

"It was in a book my grandpa got from the western church. I don't know if it's actually true or just a means of determining who should master what, but there is probably a hint of truth behind that theory. What are your abilities?" Charley asks.

"My strongest are fire, lighting, and blood arcane."

"AH! Why do you have to be the most difficult?! Do you know how many moons supposedly bestow fire, lighting and blood arcane as people's main element?!"

"No."

"Do you remember your birthday at least?"

"My real parents never got a chance to tell me, so I never bothered celebrating it."

Charley quickly shrivels up and looks down at the ground, "I'm sorry Artorias. I didn't mean…"

"It's okay. I do know that I'm around twenty-six years old." I say.

"Well, I'm going to say you were born under the horsebow moon because that's the month of fire and lighting."

"Let's go with that then. I was born under the horsebow moon, and if you were born under the great tree moon, you said wind and earth would be your strongest elements."

"That's right."

"Then you should be able to cast this without much problem." I say.

Charley stands up and attempts to draw out some mana. Energy flows through his body and fills his palms, but he is unaware of what to do next.

"Wind goes in one hand, warp in the other. The index finger of the hand with the warp spell will act as the catalyst and determine where you will travel. The moment your hands crash together, the spells will fuse, and you'll be teleported."

"What's the point of the wind spell?" Charley asks.

"The warp spell is only capable of transporting objects and other people when used by itself. The wind spell overrides this barrier and allows the caster to transport themselves instead."

Charley filters the mana and starts forming the magic sigils in his hands, "Holy…DAMN this is so much harder than it looks!"

"As long as you can remember most of the spell's outline, the mana will do the rest! Now focus!" I state.

Charley lets out a strained groan as he slams his hands together. His index finger is pointing straight up as the spells connect with one another. Charley launches himself straight up and slams into an overhead tree branch. A storm of leaves and fractured tree limbs rain down from above and cover his body.

Fear grabs my heart as I run over and yank the shattered tree off the top of him. Charley sits up and vigorously rubs the top of his pink hair. There isn't any blood. Nor does it look like he broke anything. Perhaps I should have told him to cast out in the open.

"How badly are you hurt?" I ask as I check all over his body.

"My ego took a massive hit, but other than that, I cast the spell. So, all is good." Charley says with a forced grin.

He stands on his own and takes a couple steps to prove he doesn't have a limp or an injury. His breathing doesn't sound labored, so he's okay. Good, because otherwise, I would have had to take him to Honora for treatment since I can barely cast a healing spell.

"May I ask why I went straight up rather than to the left or the right?" Charley asks.

"Your index finger. It was pointing straight up."

"Makes sense." Charley replies as he steps out from under the tree and attempts to do it again. "If I accidently launch myself up into the air again, I won't break a leg coming back down, will I?"

"No. The air generated underneath will slow your descent as you come back to the ground. When you master the basics of this spell, I'll teach you how to use it to avoid attacks and reach high spots."

"Preferably without busting my head open."

Charley's response causes me to laugh. He gets caught up in the moment and laughs himself, "You think it's funny now, but just you wait, I'm going to come up with a technique that not even you can perform, and when I do, I won't teach it to you even if you beg me too!"

"Well I hope I live to actually see that day." I tease.

Charley takes a deep breath and clears the humor clogging his throat. Mana flows into his palms, and he filters the energy into wind and warp. Charley points his index finger at me and slams his hands together. I hop back as a dust storm forms around him, and he disappears. Several black lines fly toward me as Charley's body slowly takes shape.

The heel of my boot connects with his fist. He swings with his other arm to try and make up for the canceled attack. I swat his hand away, and the both of us get into a stance.

"We aren't interrupting anything. Are we?" Jeralt's voice travels from the direction of the bridge.

"Not at all. I was teaching Charley some basic defense if he were to lose his weapon in combat." I reply as I face Jeralt. Byleth is standing by his side, so something tells me we are about to receive a mission.

"It's urgent." Jeralt says as he hands me a letter.

_To whoever it may concern;_

_We have been experiencing a strange sickness among the locals in Remire. We do not know if this is going to escalate into an outbreak, but it's causing major problems among the soldiers, and the locals. We are hereby requesting the assistance of the Church of Serios. Please send forth some healers and black casters, a Pegasus knight, and a skilled fighting force as soon as possible._

_ Captain of Adrestia's Seventh Legion, Stanley Varick_

"It was dated yesterday, and it arrived early this morning." Byleth says.

"Since it's such a short notice, we are leaving now. Honora, Manuela, and a couple of the students are being assembled as we speak." Jeralt states.

"Then I guess we have no time to lose." I reply as I hand the letter to Charley and let him read it.

"Do we have any idea what kind of sickness we are dealing with?" Charley asks.

"It could be anything. Red lung, grey throat, or whooping cough. Once we check in with the captain, we'll get an idea of how to proceed."

All three of the diseases Jeralt mentioned are easily treatable. The sores that form grey throat can be cut open and drained if treated quickly, and both red lung and whooping cough can be stifled and overcome when samples are cultivated in Pegasus blood.

Normally when there is an outbreak, the officer that sends the letter asks for medicine to treat these diseases, a small escort, and maybe a Pegasus to make a preventative serum. Never in the past has someone actually requested healers, black casters, or a fighting force. This seems like more than a case of red lung.

The four of us make our way to the stables. Both Byleth and Jeralt's horses are saddled and ready to go.

"They're coming with us." Jeralt says as he climbs up on top of his brown horse.

The attendants quickly run into the stable and saddle Glitter and Charley's white horse. I climb up onto Glitter and guide her out of the stable. Charley trails behind me, and we follow Jeralt out of Garreg Mach's main gate.

"What is the plan?" Byleth asks.

"Since we will be the first ones arriving, we'll be the first ones going in. We'll relay our findings to Honora and Manuela, and see if they can treat the sick." Jeralt replies.

The look on Byleth's face seems to be somewhat distraught. The man hardly expresses any kind of emotion, but something seems to have him on edge. I do remember that nearly seven months ago, a little area around Remire is where I actually met Byleth and Jeralt.

Maybe he's got a lover he's worried about, or a group of friends he fought alongside with since he was a mercenary. When we arrive at Remire, I'll find out who he's worried about and make it my mission to save them.

After all, he was the one that saved the three house leaders. Then a couple days later, I walked up to Zanado with him and found Charley.

When we were at Conand Tower, he not only had a hand in saving me, but he protected Charley as well. Then that night under the bridge when the flame emperor attacked, Byleth threw himself down there because I was having to wrestle around with an enraged Charley.

Most of the time, Byleth and I have to go our separate ways during a mission because he's a leader, and I'm a shadow, but he's done so much for me that I never really had the opportunity to properly thank him.

The memory of Edelgard asking me to keep an eye on Byleth comes to mind, and I have realized that I'm not doing a very good job. However, I think her task was clearly subjective. Byleth isn't dead, he's a capable leader, and he can wield the Creator's sword. Those are things she already knows.

Although she is a very understanding person, will she be upset if I haven't found anything else out? I mean, I can't ask Byleth up front about his opinions on crests, and if he'd join Hanneman's cause because I'm the one that stole that crest stone.

I don't care what the church would do to me if they found out, but Rhea would pull that "guilt by association" charge, and that's not a chance I'll take if it puts Charley and Hanneman in that kind of danger.

It seemed like a good idea to steal that crest stone at the time, but the more I think about it, I may have worked myself between a rock, and a hard place. There isn't really a way to try and convince Byleth to join me and Hanneman. I will think of something though.

With some of the conversations I've had with crest bearers like Sylvian, and with Byleth being in constant contact with nobles that potentially despise their birthright, it shouldn't be hard for him to realize that Fodlan's current system needs to go…


	23. Chapter 22

There is a huge pillar of black smoke billowing out of the woods. Makeshift palisade walls that were thrown together in a hurry block off the main entrance into the village. Adrestian officers and their guards protect the exposed areas of the palisade while the soldiers work tirelessly to try and extend the length of the wall.

Men that are supposed to be off duty are digging holes and laying the bodies of both fallen soldiers and villagers in graves marked with nothing but stones.

Byleth turns his head and stares in the direction of the graves. His face droops as he gazes at the grave tenders with sadness. I spur Glitter and intentionally block his ability to look in that direction. We haven't even got to the main gate, and I can already tell that this is a disaster on a whole other level.

We make our way into the soldier's camp and hitch our horses to the post. Jeralt leads the way forward and tries to find the captain. Byleth looks back in the direction of the graveyard. Almost like he is contemplating on whether or not someone is being put in one of those holes.

I attempt to block his view again, but he looks around me. It's clear that his mind is fixated on that. Somebody he cares about must have been in that village, and he wants the closure of knowing if they are alive or dead.

"Who's in charge here?" Jeralt asks as he approaches a man bearing the lieutenant rank.

"I am for now. First Lieutenant Gordon Hayden. You the people the church sent?" He asks as he shakes Jeralt's hand.

"Yes. What happened to Captain Varick?"

"I don't know. After he sent that letter, him and his squad went into the village to try and put out some of the fires and save some of the survivors, but they haven't come back yet."

"What exactly is happening?" Byleth asks.

"It happened about two days ago. My team and I were patrolling the border. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until this villager comes rushing towards us full sprint. He had been stabbed in the gut. Suddenly, this soldier came rushing towards us with a broken dagger. He was screaming stuff like 'I'm going to kill you and your family.'

Gordon pulls his gauntlet off and shows us a fresh, bloody scar, "we tried to subdue him, and he stabbed me all the way through the hand. At that point, we had no other option put to use force."

"This sounds much more severe than a case of red lung." I state.

"I don't know what it is, but shortly after that incident, Captain Varick ordered every capable soldier to round up the villagers and construct a palisade wall until some experts could arrive."

"The healers and reinforcements are on their way. We're going to go find Captain Varick and any survivors." Jeralt asks.

"Heed my words, if they're eyes are leaking red, do not, I repeat, do not hesitate. No matter who, or what it is." Gordon says.

Jeralt readies his spear while Byleth draws his creator's sword. The Adrestian soldier's open the barricaded, palisade gate and let us through. They immediately shut us in, and the sounds of wood locking together seal the door shut.

Cinders from the rising ash completely chokes out the light from the sun. Dim, grey light barely illuminates the open road as shadows from the trees above completely obscure visibility. The smell of burning wood is so thick it is almost to the point that it can suffocate.

Distant moans and agonizing cries of wailing people come at us from all sides. Byleth clenches his sword and Charley pulls up his hammer. Burning houses glow off in the distance. Sparks from the wooden frames spit onto the nearby foliage and assist in the fire's attempt to burn the entire village down.

Up ahead is a house that is still intact. All the windows have been busted out, but it hasn't gone up in flames yet. Even though it seems very suspicious that this house is still standing, there maybe someone inside it. Friend or foe.

"Artorias, you go around back and keep an eye out. Byleth, Charley, watch the front." Jeralt says as he prepares to enter.

Charley and Byleth stack up at the front door as I carefully make my way around. There is a cellar, a back door, and a window to keep watch over. Not to mention the surrounding treetops. I crouch down by the side of the house and put my hand on the ground.

Faint vibrations from inside the house shake the fingertips of the gauntlet. The front door slaps the floor of the house, and the feeling of Jeralt's footsteps rattle the senses in my fingers. Somebody is trying to crawl to the back door. The sound of metallic grain scrapes against hard leather.

"Someone's in that house!" I yell.

Metal collides and an object skids across the ground, "Wait!" Someone screams as loud as they can.

"Artorias! Come quick!" Jeralt shouts.

I open the hatch to the window and check the room. Nobody hiding under the bed. Nor is there anyone waiting in the corners. I climb in and cautiously make my way through the house. Blood spatters the narrow walls of the corridor.

Jeralt is standing in the remains of a derelict living room. A man wearing armor is laying up against a nearby wall. Furniture, cabinets, and chairs barricade a majority of the windows. This man just arrived because he hasn't had time to properly fortify his position.

"You the knights the church sent?" The man groans. Red slowly seeps through the tiny gaps of his fingers as he tries to keep pressure on his wounded side.

"Jeralt. Captain of the knights. This is my friend, Artorias."

"Stanley Varick." The man replies.

I kneel down by his side and look at the red blotch the knight is trying to hide. Judging by the way he couldn't finish his barricade; this wound has to be pretty severe.

"Ah, this is so stupid…" I softly scorn myself.

Mana fills my hands and tries to form a black magic spell. I reabsorb the mana and attempt to filter it into white magic. The lines on the sigils slowly change from a fire spell into the basic heal. I grind my teeth and push on as my body resists the attempt to change.

"_Breath enters our body, as the breath enters our body, it becomes mana. The mana extends past our fingers and becomes medicine."_ Honora's calm words say. The memory of her holding my hands and helping me cast a basic healing spell clears my mind and removes the doubt.

The cold that permeates my body dies down and warmth flows into my hands. I immediately touch the area around Stanley's wound. The mana flows from me to him. He gasps, and all the heat within me leaves.

A majority of the wound seals itself shut, but it is still bleeding. Did my assistance just prolong the inventible?

"Thank you." Stanley says.

"But it didn't completely heal."

"It's enough to save my life, and right now, that's all that matters." He replies as he stands on his own.

"You were trying to fortify this house." I say.

"Yes. Me and my team came in to try and rescue some of the people, but we got attacked. The half that came with me are dead, and the other half are with what's left of the survivors." Stanley states.

"Where?" Jeralt asks.

"Just west of here. There's a small outpost the villagers go in case of raids or attacks. You'll find the last of the survivors there."

"Lieutenant Gordon mentioned something about the villagers bleeding out of their eyes." Jeralt adds.

"I don't know, but the villagers and soldiers with bloody eyes are the ones causing all the chaos. If you encounter one, kill them." Stanley says.

"Charley, you and Byleth escort Stanley to the front gate. Artorias and I are going to go onward and find the last of the survivors."

"Why can't I go?" Byleth asks.

Jeralt clenches his fist and gnashes his teeth, "Because we don't know what we are up against."

"Don't worry about us. Once we save the villagers, we'll meet up and try to form a plan." I interrupt.

"Artorias, swear to me you'll come back." Charley says with a disappointed tone.

"Well I have to survive so I see you create a spell I can't cast. Am I right?"

Charley hides his anxiety behind a fake smile and nods. Byleth, Charley and Stanley turn around and head in the direction of the palisades. Jeralt clears his mind and takes a deep breath, "Shall we proceed?"

"Let's get to it." I reply.

It was kind of a shame Byleth isn't getting to come. Yet, I understand. Jeralt is scared for his boy. That story Lieutenant Gordon told us was pretty horrifying. A member of his own army rushing at him and his men with a weapon, and then having to be put down.

I don't want to imagine being in a scenario like that. Just the thought of having to kill Charley causes my heart to swell. However, it's nothing compared to what Jeralt was probably feeling inside. Byleth is his real son and just the thought of him putting his boy in the ground is enough to make any father emotional.

The outpost Stanley was talking about is directly ahead of us. Several villagers armed with swords, sticks and rocks are circling the wall. Inside the outpost, survivors and soldiers armed with bows stand on top of the elevated platforms and fire down at the people trying to get in.

Bodies of men, women, children and soldiers are scattered all over the place. Almost every one of them are facing the same way. Which means they were cut down when they were running away. The stiff, brown dirt under my boots turns to soggy, red mud. Every footstep squishes and leaves a sizable footprint.

"You ready?" Jeralt asks.

"Give the word." I reply as I place my thumb on the guard of my sword.

"The Church of Serios is here!"

The soldiers that were contemplating on whether to fire on us direct their attention to the villagers looming below. They all notch their bows in synchronization and fire a volley below. Arrows rain down and kill a handful of those below. Jeralt switches sides and stands to my left.

The villagers that managed to survive the arrow storm take off in a dead sprint towards us. In all, there's six, but that means there's possibly fourteen left. Jeralt stays a couple steps behind me as I slow my pace down from a casual walk to a balanced shuffle.

Threats and all kinds of insults come from the mouths of the villagers. I get into a firm stance and place my hand on the handle of my sword. The black steel makes no sound as it leaves the sheathe.

Silver glint runs across the chest of two villagers, and the quiet whisper of air being sliced in half quickly follows. I use the momentum of the slash to propel myself towards the third attacker. My sword cuts through his shoulder and slices into the middle of his chest.

Blood gushes out of the perfect cut and my attackers hit the ground. Jeralt hoists his spear up onto his shoulders and throws it. The spearhead punctures the chest of a villager charging towards us.

Jeralt dodges an incoming attack from the fifth attacker and rams his fist into his stomach. He yanks the man's club away from him and slams it into his face. The club snaps in half as the man spirals through the air.

Jeralt grabs his spear that's lodged in the first man he killed and rips it out of his back. He spins around and sweeps the leg of our final attacker. The man's weight is yanked out from under him as he hits the ground. Jeralt raises his spear and runs it through the attacker's chest.

"It's Blade Breaker and company!" A soldier yells from the outpost.

The gate opens up, and a man peeks out, "Both of you! Hurry!"

Jeralt and I rush in, and the guard quickly shuts the gate behind us. Inside is the last of Varick's squad, and some survivors. Mothers try to console their scared children, while the men try to waste time by pacing back and forth. Sitting over in the corner is a woman trying to entertain and keep the kids without a family happy.

"Is this all Rhea sent?" One of the soldiers ask.

"The forces Varick requested are on their way as we speak. Now, what is the next step?" Jeralt asks.

The group of soldiers whisper among one another. The one that looks like he's in charge sighs and motions for me and Jeralt to follow him. He leads us into a small, storage room and shuts the door.

"In that letter, Varick asked for a capable fighting group, a pegasus knight, and some black casters."

"Your point?" Jeralt replies.

"The pegasus knight was to try and create a preventative serum, the fighting force was supposed to help us look for any survivors. As for the black casters…"

"No…No…"

"Jeralt, we don't have a choice."

"There is always a choice!"

"Jeralt, we have saved all there is to be saved! Nobody has the slightest idea of what this disease is, and if it were to spread past the boundaries of Remire, then all of Fodlan could be wiped out in a matter of months!"

"The church sent children, not soldiers." I reply.

"Then what do you propose we do then!? We helped Varick round up everyone who wasn't sick and brought them here! There is nothing left in Remire!"

"There is always something!" Jeralt yells back.

"Do you think this is what Varick wanted!? No, but Fodlan can't suffer the same fate either! There is no other option!"

"Do you think you can live with yourself knowing that you could have overlooked someone?" I ask.

"If it means not smashing the skulls of my wife and children in a couple days, then yes." The soldier replies as he wipes his eyes.

Jeralt slams his fist into a nearby barrel. Wood scatters all over the floor as he swears aloud. I knew this was going to be bad, but not that bad. Jeralt said they were going to send some of the prodigies to help us. Which means Rhea would have sent some students like Felix and Dorothea.

She had no idea that it was going to come to this. Nor do I hold her responsible for what those kids are going to have to do. As much as I hate it, the soldier is right. Him and his men claimed to have saved everyone, but I know that they were only able to save most of them. When something like this occurs, there isn't enough manpower nor knowledge to properly handle the situation.

"I know this is difficult for you, but there was only so much we could have done. Varick did everything possible to save this village, but it's too far gone now." The soldier states.

"Just get the survivors out of here. Artorias, you go help with the evacuation." Jeralt sighs as he leans up against the wall and rubs his eyes.

I follow the soldier out and he shuts the door. "Alright! Listen up! The exit isn't far! I want everyone to form a double column and follow these soldiers out!" The soldier yells.

The last of Varick's squad take control and help the villagers get organized. I climb up to the second level of the outpost and keep an eye out for any potential threats. The area around the outpost is clear. If everyone can keep calm and stick together, then they can make it out.

"Sir! You might want to take a look at this!" The soldier he hands me his monocular and points in the direction of the exit.

In the middle of the road stands a figure looking the opposite way of the outpost. A massive sword rests in the sheathe strapped to their back. I should have known she would have something to do with this.

"That's her! She's the one that attacked and separated us from Varick! The one I saw before all this happened!"

"You focus on getting the people out of here. I'll deal with her."

"But sir, she isn't just an average swordmaster!"

"Neither am I." I reply as I hop over the balcony and drop down onto the road.

The heat from the hot wind blows through her white hair. I could have sworn that night at Garreg Mach, she had brown hair. Faceless crosses her arms and pretends she is unaware of my presence. I make sure that she hasn't set any traps or is preparing an ambush.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Faceless states as she turns around.

"I've never been fond of massacring a village full of innocent people."

She draws the sword off her back. I press my sword out of the sheathe with my thumb and get into a striking stance. Faceless crouches down and crawls toward me. She leaps up into the air and thrusts the sword. I sidestep and swipe back.

Whispering wind follows the spines of our swords as we slash at one another. She has definitely gotten faster since the last engagement. Not only that, but she is relying more on dodging than deflecting. I hop over an incoming sweep and counter attack. Faceless jumps back and follows up with another slash to keep me from pursuing her.

"Wow…Despite changing my tactics, you seen right through it! Everything he said about you was true!"

"Who said?" I ask.

"Soon, you will find out! For now, let us allow those who survived to pass!" Faceless replies as she jumps off the dirt road and into a huge ditch littered with bodies.

"So what makes that group of survivors so special?"

"Somebody needs to live so they can spread what happened here." Faceless replies.

"What did these people ever do to you?"

Faceless lays her sword over her shoulder, "It's not the people did to me, but what Garreg Mach and their knights did. You see, a couple months ago, the Western Church decided to plan an assassination attempt on the Archbishop herself. When in reality, it was a front so some of the Faerghus nobles could steal a couple crest stones, and profit from it."

"Rhea then sent an army of knights to the Western Church to recollect the missing stones. All but one was recovered…"

Faceless clenches her fist, and her voice cracks under the stress of holding back her feelings. A drop of water leaks through the slit where her eyes would be and rolls down the metal gash on her mask. Sorrow overtakes her to the point that she nearly collapses to her knees, but she squares up and maintains a strong posture.

"Some of Rhea's knights went into a nearby village in hopes of finding the stone. When the locals told them that they didn't know anything about a stolen crest stone, the knights accused them of conspiring with the western church before going rogue. I was the only survivor. My mother, my father, and all my friends were killed. And my baby brother…starved to death in his own crib."

"So this was your idea?"

"I enlisted the help of some individuals determined to kill Rhea. The tradeoff was this." Faceless rolls up her leather sleeve and shows me an artificial crest mark that's very similar to the one forcefully placed on Edelgard.

"What better way to start our escapade than on the town the famed captain of the Serios knights used to live in?"

"And how far will you go to achieve this retribution?" I ask.

"My mission will be complete once Rhea and all her knights are dead."

"I understand the hatred you harbor towards the church, but this path you have chosen isn't doing any good. If anything, it's making the problem worse." I reply as I point to the body of a little boy.

"Then why will the destruction of my home be seen as justice in Fodlan's eyes, but this will be hailed as a tragedy? The justice I have inflicted on this town is no different then what happened to my people, and soon, all of Fodlan will suffer for Sothis' arrogance."

Faceless clenches her sword and jumps up into the air. I leap out of the way and try to get to an area where I won't trip over a dead body. Her sword crashes down and takes off the arm of a dead man. Hatred and sorrow fuel Faceless' swings as she rampages towards me in a fit of blind rage.

Even though she is trying to kill me, I don't feel right fighting back because this is my fault. Rhea was obviously going to send a squad to the western church to reclaim the stones, and that was part of the plan. To get the attention off me and Hanneman, but I didn't know the group was going to go overboard and slaughter a village that had nothing to do with the theft.

"Fight me! You coward! I want the Sword Saint to die swinging his sword at me! That way Rhea and all of Garreg Mach will quake in fear at the very mention of my name!" Faceless screams.

I summon a small bit of mana in my hand and form a wind spell. Faceless flips forward and brings her sword down. I dodge out of the way, stomp the weapon into the ground and shove my fist into her gut. The wind spell releases and sends Faceless rolling across the ground.

Something slams into my right shoulder and throws me off balance. My vison temporarily cuts out, and my body tumbles across the ground. The heat off a fire spell warms the side of my face as I come to a stop.

"Solon! I told you I got this!" Faceless swears.

"That boy could have killed you if he wanted to." A voice replies as I roll over onto my back and flex my legs.

My weight tries to throw my body up, but my torso is tied to the ground. Several red, tentacles snag a hold of my wrists and prevent me from moving. The tips of my restraints form a jagged, yet sharp looking spike. I clench my wrists and relax rapidly to try and make the tentacles expand, but it cinches up and prevents me from gaining any slack to slip out.

"I believe you have something of mine, and I'd kindly like it back." An approaching voice says as the spikes slowly rear back like they are going to strike.

I summon some mana into my hands and take aim with my index finger. A small bolt of molten plasma connects with one of the red spikes. Bright blue light illuminates the area and travels through the red spike.

The caster shouts in pain as the lighting connects with him. My restraints crystalize and turn a crushed black color. I quickly summon a wind and warp spell and clap my hands together. Dust and crust from the crystalized restraint swirl around me. I propel myself in a safe direction and return to my feet.

Faceless makes an attempt to pursue me, but the man that had me restrained prevents her from continuing. His clothing, I recognize it. It was that scribe that's been stalking Charley! That night when the flame emperor appeared! He must be the one responsible for Flayn's kidnapping, Charley's attempted kidnapping, and all the disappearances!

I clench my fist to the point the metal tips of the gauntlet creaks, "You bastard…."

He is unlike anything I've ever seen. His face is a solid pale color. There's no pigment that gives it that peach color normal people have. What should be the white of his eyes is replaced with a dark, charcoal color, and his iris is nothing but a white dot. Five dashes tattoo his right eye. Three above his brow, and two below the eyelid. His hood prevents me from getting a good look at the color of his hair.

"Can it be?" The crook asks as he rubs his chin. "No…It is…"

"He's the sword saint! So what?" Faceless states.

"No, he's something so much more!"

Off in the distance, Jeralt is rushing towards us as fast as he possibly can. He must be coming back to get me now that all the survivors have been evacuated. "Get away from him!" Jeralt yells.

"Quickly, we have to inform CEK that we have found him!" The crook says.

"What about the book you were harping about!?" Faceless asks.

"Forget the book. We've found something more valuable than just any book of CEK." The crook replies as he looks back at me.

"What are you talking about!?" I yell.

There is a bright flash and both Faceless, and the crook are gone.

"Artorias! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure? It looks like you got struck by a fireball." Jeralt says as he brushes the pasty soot off my shoulder piece.

"It's nothing. Is everyone out?"

"Everyone except us."

"Then let's get moving before they lock us in." I reply as we take off for the exit.

The men at the front barricade signal that Jeralt and I are alive. They open the door and let us through. The rest of the people Varick requested have finally arrived. Honora and Manuela treat the injured while Ingrid tends to her pegagus.

Jeralt and I make our way through the camp and find Varick inside a tent with the children. Fletcher, Annette, Dorothea, Lysithea, Charley, and Felix are all trying to come to grips with something.

"There's got to be another away!" Dorothea pleas.

"I assure you everyone that is well or that can be saved is out." Varick answers.

"And what about those affected in there? Are you saying they can't be helped?" Annette adds.

"If you saw half of what I did in there, you wouldn't be questioning my decision." Varick firmly states.

"But what if there are more survivors trapped in there?" Felix asks as he crosses his arms.

"I told you that everyone made it out. The longer we sit here and argue, the better chance that disease has of escaping and infecting all of Fodlan."

"Varick… Please, don't make the students do this." Charley pleas.

Fletcher drops out of the group and sits down in the corner. He shrivels up and hides himself in his knees. Charley sits down beside him and offers up words of comfort as Varick continues to try and convince the children to go through with cleansing Remire.

It seems we have reached an impasse. Any other day, these kids would be all for liberating a village if it meant saving the inhabitants. I can definitely understand why they don't want to go through with this because they would be destroying people's lively hoods and everything they worked hard for. Not to mention that there are still people trapped in there.

As battle hardened as Felix is, he is seriously questioning whether or not he can do this. Whereas it's obvious Annette, Doreatha and Fletcher do not want to do this.

"If there is no other way…"

"No… The students shouldn't have to go to bed wondering if this was the right thing to do." I interrupt Felix.

"Artorias! What are you doing!?" Charley yells as I walk out of the tent and make my way towards Ingrid.

She is completely unaware of the situation. Left out of the loop since she is the one that brought the pegagus. Ingrid more than likely would have been chosen to drop the black casters off around the village.

"What's wrong?" Ingrid asks.

"I need to borrow your pegagus." I reply.

"Alright. Where do you need me to take you?"

"You won't be coming with me."

Confusion causes her face to droop as she tries to figure out what I mean, "What are you going on about?"

"Charley, and the other black casters will explain."

"Well explain to me on the way."

"You can't go."

"Why?"

"Because the reason they asked you to bring the pegagus is because they needed the mobility." I state as I climb up into the saddle of the flying horse.

"Mobility for what?"

"Destroying the village."

Deep inside Ingrid, this surreal feeling of horror fills her heart. Her eyes stretch open from the realization of what is about to happen. Ingrid presses her hands to her forehead and shakes back and forth in denial.

"What do you mean…destroy the village? Tell me!"

"I know this isn't what you signed up for, but that's what they wanted from you. They needed you and your flying horse for a preventive serum, but not in the traditional sense."

Ingrid comes to the brutal realization of what I just said. This is all new to her, and the kids back in the tent. They haven't been on the field long enough to know that people and knights face dilemmas like this. To her and the other kids, it would be the right thing to go in and confirm everyone got out.

However, the extent of this disease is unparalleled to anything Fodlan has ever seen. The fact it took over an entire village in the course of a day tells people like Varick that they are unable to effectively contain the sudden epidemic.

If Fodlan was hit with a nationwide disease with no preventive serum at the ready, everyone would blame Varick and the empire because they didn't contain it, and the situation could eventually become another war.

"Do you…Do you need me to come with you?" Ingrid asks.

"No, but how do you fly this thing?"

"It's no different than a horse. It's just got wings." Ingrid replies with a solemn look.

"I know this is tough for you, but there is no need for a good kid like you, or Felix, or any of the other students to shoulder this burden. You kids got your whole lives ahead of you, and you don't need to sacrifice your teenage innocence over something like this." I reply.

"Artorias…"

I spur the pegagus and it takes off before Ingrid can finish her sentence. The flying horse flaps its wings and launches itself up into the air. My weight causes me to sink into the saddle as the pegagus continues to ascend. It's somewhat similar, but the way the saddle is designed prevents you from leaning too far to one side or the other.

A slew of dead bodies lay eviscerated all over the village. There are at least twenty villagers torching buildings with people inside, and hacking away at the lifeless bodies of those slain. The situation is a lot worse than anybody could imagine. Even a purging fire wouldn't be enough to contain this.

I take the gauntlet off my left hand and pull out a dagger. The steel filets my palm open and blood slowly oozes out. The wound glows black as mana fills the gash. Distorted orange comes out of my hand and mixes with the blood. The flames become tainted with arcane, and black fire surrounds a swirling ball of crimson.

My arm violently shakes as I take aim at the village below. The vow I made to Byleth prevents me from following through. My breath becomes heavy with remorse, and what feels like a waterdrop leaks out of my left eye. I take a deep breath and clear the grief as a massive cone of black flame spews out of my hand.

I draw a circle around the village to prevent anyone from escaping. The fire quickly spreads inward towards the village and engulfs the people within the blast radius. I wave my hand back and forth over the direction of the village and make sure nothing is left untouched. What looks like black ghosts are frantically running around, screaming and rolling on the ground to try and put the fire.

"I'm…s…sorry Byleth…" I struggle to say as my voice cracks from the emotional stress…


	24. Chapter 23

A sea of endless black encases the burning village within the fiery circle. With my right hand, I use a regular wind spell to suffocate the flames trying to escape from the boundary. The grass and trees surrounding the village have finally burned out and cannot help fuel the black fire's rapid expansion.

I land Ingrid's pegagus outside Varick's camp and climb out of the saddle. Horror and devastation paint fear on the Adrestian soliders as well as the students. Even Felix looks somewhat unnerved at what he had just witnessed.

Jeralt is sipping on his flask and coming to grips with what just happened. Byleth on the other hand, just casually looks at me. The cold, expression look on his face tells me that he is trying to hold in what he is feeling, but deep down, I know what he feels. I turn my back and walk away.

"Artorias…" I hear Honora say.

The very mention of my name causes my head to ache. Fear takes control and forces me into a dead sprint.

"Artorias! Wait!" Honora yells.

"Artorias! Come back!" Charley adds.

Their pleas for me to stop only increases my drive to get away. I don't want to talk or see anyone as of right now. There are no words that can ease what is going on within me. I come across a small stream and sit down at the water's edge.

In a couple days, word will spread about what happened at Remire, and like Faceless said, it will be labeled as a tragedy. She then said all of Fodlan will suffer for Sothis' arrogance. Does that mean this is only the beginning and is the new dawn the Flame Emperor envisioned?

Then there was that scribe that's been stalking Charley. He was obviously the one that had Flayn captured. Then he went off on a tangent about CEK and me. What did he mean? It was obvious I was going to read that book, but since I have an understanding that crests and relics were actually created by the Agarthans, will the Flame Emperor and his army seek to recruit me by force?

As for this CEK guy I keep reading about, he discovered that mana can be manipulated within one's blood to boost the caster's power, and in some cases, bestow certain abilities if a unique insignia is carved on the correct part of the body. Which means the scribe that was trying to restrain me must have been close to CEK.

I don't think CEK is the one behind everything, but he's got a whole arsenal of tactics most of Fodlan is forbidden to learn about. Which means if CEK is working with the Flame Emperor, they could start a nontraditional war Fodlan isn't ready to fight.

The fact that this happened all because I stole a crest stone makes me sick. This was Byleth and Jeralt's home, and now it's nothing but ash. Even though Hanneman and I have successfully tested several experiments and everything is almost to the point where we can start dealing with nobles willing to listen, it doesn't change the fact that I created this nightmare. It really is true then. That there really is no such thing as a good intention.

"Artorias?" Jeralt's voice travels over my shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"You alright?"

"As alright as someone can be."

Jeralt takes a seat beside me and pulls out his flask. I reach into my side satchel and grab some tobacco I rolled a couple days ago. A small black flame from my left index finger shoots out and singes the tip of the paper. Blood bubbles out of the cut and drips down onto the ground.

"You going to patch that?" Jeralt states.

"The blood that fuels those black flames cannot be extinguished until the ash itself is gone." I reply as another red bubble pools out of my hand.

Jeralt takes another big drink, "That must have been a difficult choice to make. Stepping up so those young ones didn't."

"You and I both know Varick wasn't able to save everyone. Those kids aren't old enough to be asking 'what if' yet."

The taste of the dried leaves, and the smell of the bitter smoke helps combat the anxiety boiling up inside my heart and helps keep myself suppressed. That way irrational and emotional outbursts can be avoided.

"I understand why you smoke. It's similar to why I drink." Jeralt says.

"Why is that?"

"To help kill the sadness. I've noticed that when you are stressed or worried, you pull out a plug of tobacco. Just like how I pull out my flask."

"How do you know this?"

"I've been around a while. A lot longer than you, that's for sure." He chuckles. "People are taught that there is always a right and wrong choice. This is true in many cases, but there will come a time that no matter what is decided, the outcome is wrong either way. It's a choice many can't bring themselves to make because it goes against the 'right and wrong' philosophy that has been ingrained into our society. However, people that do possess this ability are unable to explain why bad things happen regardless of the choices presented."

What Jeralt says brings some comfort to me, but it isn't enough to help get rid of all the guilt. If I would have never stolen that crest stone, then all these people wouldn't have died. Nor would the survivors be homeless.

As much as I hate to do this, I feel that the only true way to atone for this sin towards Jeralt and Byleth is to hunt down those responsible for what happened to Faceless' village. If they would have just stuck to the orders and focused on the western church, then I wouldn't have had to do this.

"Jeralt, do you know anything about the attack on the western church?" I ask.

"Not really. Alois, Catherine and Shamir were with me, and we were doing a mission in Edmund when that mission was carried out. Why?"

"The reason this happened to Remire was because of something that occurred during the mission to the western church. That masked girl I was fighting with, she said some of the knights went rogue."

"Damnit…" Jeralt sighs.

"She was the same one helping Skullface that night the Magistrate was killed." I state.

"And this was revenge for what they did to her village. If only I would have gone on that mission instead. Maybe I could have stopped that from happening."

If someone as responsible as Jeralt or Catherine went on that mission to the western church, then that would have never happened. That's exactly why it happened. There wasn't a proper authority figure to keep everyone in line.

Nor was there going to be any consequences if the traitors were caught. There's always the excuse that "_the village was housing the enemy, and the inhabitants were fighting back_." When the entire group can agree on one thing, and someone like Rhea or Jeralt wasn't there to spectate, there's no evidence proving otherwise.

"Jeralt, is there anyway you can get a record of who went on that mission?" I ask.

"What are you planning on doing?"

"Oh nothing. I just feel the need I should have a chat with the knights that went on that mission." I say.

Jeralt pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, "Artorias…"

"It's just going to be a sophisticated sit down."

"Don't do anything that will make you an enemy of the church. Now, you let me do my job, and I'll find those responsible. Once I build a case, I'll present it to Rhea. By that time, she'll give you free reign to do what you want. Even if it goes outside the confines of the law." Jeralt states.

I take a long drag off the last of the tobacco stump and snuff it out, "Perfect."

Jeralt puts his flask away and stands up, "Everything will work out for what's best, but for now, you have a visitor."

I turn around and look in the direction Jeralt is pointing. Honora is standing behind me with a healing spell at the ready. That must mean the job is finally done. She slowly makes her way over to me and takes a hold of my left hand.

"I'll just let you two be." Jeralt says as he walks away.

Honora keeps her face tilted down as she presses her finger into the cut. A gouging pain rips through my hand and travels up my arm. Her finger taps against the bone of my hand. She closes her eyes, and a flood of warmth fills my hand. The visible black flames devouring the village slowly die down as the wound seals itself shut.

Blood stains the tip of her finger as she wipes her face and looks at me with glassy eyes. A tear rolls down Honora's face, "those that were sick…they couldn't be helped…so I had to…"

"That's enough Honora." I state.

Honora throws her arms around me and squeezes as hard as she can, "I couldn't save them…"

"This isn't your fault Honora." I reply as I put my arms around her.

Honora's chin rests on my shoulder, and the soft, fragrant skin of her face presses against mine. Tears slowly trickle down her cheek and stain my face. Honora's sorrow slowly collects at my chin and drips onto the top of my exposed hand.

"I'm sorry Honora…I really am…"

End of the Red Wolf Moon Arc…


	25. Chapter 24

I check behind my shoulder and make sure nobody is following me. Hanneman has a new tool for me, as well as another weapon to test. Charley wasn't at his house this morning, but he left a note on the front door saying that he was taking his armor to the blacksmith to be polished.

Which we weren't going to do anything today anyway since Garreg Mach's big ball is tonight. Hanneman thought it would be a perfect cover to go try out a new weapon since all the knights will be occupied with the decorating and security. To my fortune, Rhea and Seteth left me off. Which means I don't have to do anything today. Other than go home after today's little trial.

Hanneman is sitting on a tree stump and fusing something into an object resembling a sword. He reaches into a tool bag setting by his side and pulls out a worn, oil stained rag. Hanneman scrubs the hilt a couple times and examines the edge.

"Any warps?" I ask.

"Nothing shy of a perfect blade." He replies as he spins the sword around and gets into a defensive position. "Have at thee!" Hanneman shouts with a smile.

I slow my walk down and shuffle. Hanneman holds the sword with both hands and approaches me. My thumb slightly pushes the black steel blade out of its sheathe. Hanneman strikes first. Black steel connects with the bronze blade of his sword and his side swipe flies up. He manipulates the momentum from the spin and dodges back. The sound of the grain rattling around tells me he's going for a counter swing. I deflect the incoming attack and back off.

Hanneman examines the blade and shakes his head in satisfaction, "No nicks or structural damage of any kind. However, there is still one final test. Artorias, if you would."

He hands the sword off to me and backs up. In the hilt of the weapon lies a yellowish, blue topaz. Unlike the last prototype, this one has some kind of trigger. Probably to help regulate the flow of mana and prevent an overload.

This sword feels entirely different. In all the weapons we have tested up to this point, this one isn't trying to forcefully drain the mana from me. Yet, it feels like it's calling me to do so. It's more of a friendly gesture than an assertive demand.

"I want you to pour everything you have into that blade." Hanneman says.

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"What element?"

"I designed this one to channel the power lighting. If it works, it will mimic the ability Catherine's sword is capable of."

"Okay. Here I go." I nervously answer.

The last time he told me to give it everything, we were testing a sword with a fire element. The weapon successfully pulled the spell off, but the intense heat combined with the pressure of the mana caused the blade to expand and melt into a pool of molten iron.

I grasp the sword with both hands and form a lighting sigil in my palms. The mana flows from my body into the sword and causes the topaz to glow with a divine aura. Grains within the sword charge up with power, and the bronze blade turns the same color as the gemstone set in the hilt.

"Alright Artorias. Pull the trigger." Hanneman says.

I aim the blade up to the sky and pull. A massive bolt of lightning blasts out the end and rips through the atmosphere. My arm recoils back from the force, and the sound of a thunderclap amplified threefold rattles the nearby treetops. The earth beneath my feet cracks and parts of the ground slightly shift in elevation.

"Is it still in one piece!?" Hanneman asks as he walks over and carefully examines the weapon. We check the hilt, edge, gemstone, and the handle. Nothing looks like it sustained any kind of damage.

Hanneman throws his hands up with glee and leaps up from excitement, "AH HA! It works! It works!"

"It looks like you finally built something Artorias proof." I say as I hand the sword back.

"And I know if it can survive you, it can survive anything!" Hanneman says as he wraps the blade up in some canvas. "Now, onto what I have for you!"

He reaches into a bag and pulls out a collapsible lever, some cable spun out of steel, and an object that resembles a miniature bow. I sit down on the tree stump as Hanneman flips my left arm over.

"So, are you going to the ball tonight?" Hanneman asks as he fuses the bow to the compartment that houses my hidden throwing knives.

"Of course not."

"Well you better make plans then. I heard Catherine had intentions of asking you to go with her." Hanneman teases.

"If given the choice between dancing with her, or dying, I'll stab myself right now." I reply.

"You do know you can't hate someone without loving them first."

"Shut up…"

Hanneman laughs, "I bet if you two just sat down and discussed your differences, then you two would probably be the best of friends!"

"Like that's ever going to happen."

Hanneman folds the bow's wings in, places the lever on top of the compartment and locks the gears together. He takes a soldering rod and sticks it in between the gaps of the compartment, and the bow's arc.

"Well what if Miss Honora asked you to go?"

"I'd tell her what I tell everyone else. I'm not familiar with Fodlan culture, and I can't dance. Speaking of which, do you plan on going with Manuela tonight?" I reply.

"Don't even start Artorias. It's bad enough I have to spend seven days a week around her. I swear that woman just intentionally does things to piss me off." Hanneman growls.

"How so?"

"Like the other day, she asked if she could use my lesson book as a guideline. I knew I should have said no, but I was feeling generous. A couple days went by, and I asked her if I could have it back."

"And you didn't get it back?" I ask.

"Oh no, I did, but it had red wine stains and crumbs all over it!"

"Seems accurate." I reply as he finishes up the gauntlet. "Any catchy name for this one?"

"The only thing I could come up with is the crankshot, but even that sounds stupid when I think about it. Anyway, this is how it works."

Hanneman presses a button on the side of the compartment. The wings fold out and form a miniature bow. "Okay, now push this button right here." I press the button, and the lever deploys. "Now crank the lever to the right."

The gears within the contraption rotate and pull the cable back. The wings start to arc backwards, and the compartment housing the throwing knives open up. A blade is carried up and set within the confines of the bow. The cable reaches full tension, and the lever can't be rotated any further.

"Now, summon some mana into your hand." Hanneman says.

The moment mana hits my palm, the cable snaps and launches the throwing knife forward with a _thoop_ sound similar to an archer releasing a full draw. The knife soars through the air and disappears behind a huge thicket.

"We're not getting that back. Are we?" I ask.

"No. I don't think so." Hanneman replies as we just stare in the direction the knife was shot. "No matter. Any blacksmith selling throwing knives at Garreg Mach are producing these flat type blades now. If you ever need any replacements, tell them to put it on my tab, but don't be going crazy with it!"

"I don't know. I was thinking about just spraying and praying." I tease.

"Oh yeah, like you'd actually pray."

"Hey, that's not true. I've prayed before." I reply.

"No Artorias. Praying for an opportunity to see Honora during her bath doesn't count." Hanneman laughs.

"And it pains me to this day that it hasn't happened again." I humbly reply.

Hanneman focuses back on the task at hand, "Now, I made this device to disengage and fold up after each shot. That way if you have to summon a spell immediately after using it, you won't fire by accident."

"A sound implication." I reply as I press the button on the side and deploy the crankshot.

"If you want to cancel the shot, just fold it back up, even if it's deployed. You'll just have to open the contraption yourself and replace the knife manually." Hanneman states as he pushes the wings of the bow back into the sides. Gears and springs lock the wings in place, and the lever sinks back into the contraption.

Hanneman tightens the rope holding the canvas together and throws the sword over his shoulder, "Well done Artorias! Your skill hasn't diminished since the day you graduated!"

"Thank you master Hanneman." I reply as Catherine, and a group of knights arrive.

"What's the commotion?" Katherine asks.

"Oh nothing. I was just giving my student an evaluation for old times' sake."

Hanneman and Catherine converse back and forth over what happened as I stand there with my arms at my side.

"We were out on a patrol and heard a massive thunderclap. We just wanted to make sure nobody was in trouble." Catherine says as she looks around.

"So it was you that produced that lighting spell?" Catherine asks me.

"Yes Lady Cassandra." I reply with a straight face.

Catherine looks down at my gauntlets and rubs her chin. She walks around me and checks to make sure I'm not doing anything suspicious. For Sothis sake, give me a break. Catherine always does this. She's just looking for a reason to start a fight with me. Ever since that day Catherine tried to attack me, she harasses and pushes my buttons to try and make me lash out. Not that I ever would, but it's incredibly annoying.

"Is something troubling you?" I ask.

"Your arms. They're unusually armored." She states as she turns them over and examines the contraptions.

"A warrior's most important weapon isn't his eyes, or his sword but arms guided by a pure heart." I reply.

"Of course, it is. I'd expect nothing but nonsense from you." Catherine states as she looks at my palms.

"Knight Cassandra, you wouldn't happen to be here to ask for Artorias' company to the dance tonight. Would you?" One of the Serios knights jokes.

Catherine suddenly drops my hands and turns around, "And what makes you assume that's why I'm here?"

"I think she's wanting more than company to the dance tonight." Another knight whispers.

"Some of that night time company…" Someone in the back jokes.

The very thought causes me to wince in pain. All the knight's snicker and laugh under their breath as Catherine grinds her teeth in anger and disgust, "I swear…Whoever said that is going to get their skull busted open. Back to work you slackers!"

The entire group follows behind Catherine. In the very back, I can see a glimpse of red. The man turns around and gives me a thumbs up. His grin shows a set of pearly white teeth as he winks in satisfaction. It's that one boy. Sylvain. The one I had the conversation with about his brother a couple months ago.

I return with a friendly gesture and a light, "thank you." Although I ought to slap him upside the head for planting such horrific images in my mind.

"Hmm…"

"Hmm… What? What's funny?" I ask.

"I may not be a scholar in relationships, but I think Catherine likes you." Hanneman says with a smug grin.

"Shut….Up…" I reply as we make our way back to the monastery.

The dress shops and armorers are completely covered up with people from all three houses. Students as well as faculty compare their armor and dresses to make sure that they match for the ball tonight. Hanneman makes a sudden, hard right and strays away from the front entrance of the monastery.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"I just remembered, I need to pick up a corsage, and a boutonniere for some students of mine. The guy was busy, and his date is currently running some errands for the church." Hanneman replies.

"Who's the couple?"

"I'm glad you asked." Hanneman answers as he rounds the corner.

Edelgard and Honora are sitting on a bench in front of a dress shop. I should have known that Hanneman was stringing me along the moment he said he had a new tool he wanted to try. For the last couple days, Honora and I been spending more and more time together. She must have gone to Edelgard and Hanneman for advice on how to approach me with the question. Then they concocted a plan that actually hid what today's true motivation was.

"Just like we practiced." Edelgard whispers to Honora.

"It's just nine little words. Nine little words." Honora exhales. She collects her strength and opens her eyes. Her faces glows with determination as she stands up. "Sir Artorias, as Rhea's top advisor, would you please escort me to the ball tonight?"

Honora's rehearsed lines, strong eye contact and firm posture tells me that she's been practicing this for more than a couple days. Easily more than a month because she did not stutter or faulter despite being scared. As much as I don't want to go, and even though there's the excuse that I don't know how to dance, Honora put a lot of effort into gathering the courage to ask me this one question.

"Yes. I will escort you to the ball tonight. However, keep in mind that I am unfamiliar with the concept of dancing." I reply.

"I can teach you while Honora picks out a dress." Edelgard replies.

Honora takes a deep breath and lets out an audible expression of happiness. There was no way I could say no. Nor would Edelgard or Hanneman ever forgive me for turning Honora down. Worse, I would never forgive myself.

"I'm…going to shop now…" Honora gasps as she carefully places one foot in front of the other.

"Come now Artorias. I've only got a short period of time to teach you the basics of ballroom dancing." Edelgard says.

Hanneman sits down on the bench and observes while I follow Edelgard to a clearing, "first, you have to stand up as straight as possible. There's no slouching during a formal dance." Edelgard raises her right arm and opens up her hand, "now, the woman's hand will remain straight up while yours remains at an angle."

I let out a sigh and take a hold of her hand. Edelgard bends her left arm and places her hand on the cuff of my shoulder. Edelgard scoots a little to the right, "Now, put your hand on my shoulder blade." I reach under her arm and place my hand on the back of her shoulder.

"The man will always lead during the dance, so that means you will step forward with your left foot while slightly leaning to the right, and the woman will step back. The moment you bring your right foot forward, slide it to the right. Like this."

Edelgard takes a step back with her right leg. I follow the directions she gave me and step forward with my left foot, and slide over to my right.

"Now you will step back with your right foot and slide your left foot back. Almost like making a square. This is called the box step." Edelgard says as we complete the first cycle. "Again."

I take a step forward and go through the motion with Edelgard, "Again. This time, don't stop."

The both of us spin around in a circle as I practice the motion. As much as I was wanting to sit in the spring behind my house tonight, this seems a little more exciting. Although Edelgard is a nice person, I am personally looking forward to dancing with Honora tonight. Even though my heart is full of fear.

"Are you nervous about tonight?" Edelgard asks.

"A shadow is never nervous of anything."

"You're lying. I can see it in your eyes." Edelgard teases.

I bow my head and try to hide the visible smile she put on my face with that comment. Edelgard laughs, "You think it's funny, but just you wait until you see Honora tonight in her dress."

"I am positive she will leave me breathless." I state as I dwell on what's going to happen tonight.

"Don't even go there." Edelgard says.

"What?"

"I know what you are thinking, and I don't care what reasoning you have to believe in it. Rhea and Seteth are not going to look down on Honora just because she chose to go with you." Edelgard says.

"But it was..."

"I said I don't want to hear it! You are going to escort Honora to the ball and show her a good time!"

"If that is your biding, then there's no reason to drag Honora down."

"That's the spirit!" Edelgard cheers as we continue to spin around in the field.

Honora leaves the shop with a wooden crate and waves the shopkeeper bye. I am guessing she is trying to keep the dress out of my sight. That way she can surprise me tonight. Edelgard nods and signals that our practice session is over. Hopefully, this will be enough for me to pull through tonight.

"What color of dress did you get?" Hanneman asks.

"A green one."

"That sounds lovely. Let's head back and try it on." Edelgard says.

"Well, I guess that makes it your turn." Hanneman chuckles.

"I can hardly wait." I sigh as we head into the shop.

Most of the clothing has already been purchased. Shelves and racks have been stripped bare of any cloth. The only thing that's left is the stuff behind the counter, but there's a reason why it's back there. Hanneman places his hands behind his back and causally walks through the shop. Judging by the way he is acting; he's already got something in mind.

He picks up a green caplet and unfolds it. I cross my arms and back up, "no way."

"Yes."

"No."

"The shopkeeper and I will hold you down if it comes to that." Hanneman replies.

"This is so stupid. Why can't I just polish my armor and wear that tonight?" I ask.

"Because it's not going to match Honora's dress. Now hurry up! We're burning daylight!"

"Goddamnit."

Hanneman throws the caplet over my left shoulder and steps back, "Rather dashing, but it is still missing something."

"You're not going to run yourself into a hole. Are you?" I ask.

"Money isn't an issue. Getting you to listen is the problem." Hanneman replies as he takes the capelet off my shoulder and approaches the shop keeper's counter.

"How is money not going to be an issue?"

"Because Edelgard and I set up a fund to buy you a suit so you could go with Honora. You'd be surprised at who and how many people payed to have you come to this dance." Hanneman says.

Guilt fills my body and soaks into my heart. People at Garreg Mach actually collected money so that I could go? The fear of the unknown finally goes away, and the bitter sting of a headache sits in. Weakness takes over, and my stomach goes cold. Why am I so short sighted?

The thought that people actually want me to come makes me feel uneasy because when I first arrived, nobody wanted anything to do with me, so I had a mutual feeling. The only time people even acknowledged my existence was when they needed help or advice on swordsmanship and magic.

"Alright enough. I'm sorry. I didn't know you would go this far for someone like me." I say.

"I know it's in your nature to be negative. You were taught to expect the worst. Especially if it's something you don't understand, but you have no idea how happy this is going to make Honora. She has always wanted to ask you in the past, but she was afraid because you're always negative. So much so that Honora locked herself in her room and cried last year." Hanneman replies.

The shopkeeper remains silent continues to act like she is working. The poor girl certainly wasn't expecting an argument over such a matter to break out. Nor was I expecting to see myself as a villain who dragged one of the sweetest girls in Fodlan down.

"Then I suppose…tonight should be the night I make amends with Honora." I bleakly say.

"The shopkeeper will now take you to the dressing room. Once you have it on, come out so I can see how it looks." Hanneman says.

The woman nods and collects some clothing for tonight, "right this way please."

I follow her to the back of the building and into a room. She sits the clothing down and closes the door on the way out. I unlatch all the armor and take my shirt off. The smooth touch of green silk rolls over my fingertips. Gold imprint decorates the dress vest, and a set of clamps rest on the left shoulder so a caplet can be mounted.

Even though I am flattered that people pooled together some money for me to go, Edelgard and Hanneman made good use of those funds. A budget attire certainly wasn't on the top of their list. Even the pants are made of silk.

I put on the black undershirt and slide the pants over my underwear. The store keeper comes back with a pair of black leather shoes and leaves them in front of the door. Sweet Sothis. I think a pair of regular brown would have been fine.

The new leather crimples and tightens around my feet as I lace up the shoes and take a couple practice steps. They're not very comfortable to walk in as of now. Hopefully that will change later on tonight. I throw my claymore over my back, mount my sword to my hip and collect the rest of my belongings.

The shopkeeper hands Hanneman a bottle filled with some kind of gel. He pulls the cork out and slathers some on his hands.

"What's that?"

"Hair perfume." Hanneman replies as he scrubs the top of my head and embeds the gel into my scalp. The shopkeeper brings a mirror as Hanneman dresses my hair. The smell of gardenia flowers and jasmine petals permeates from the top of my head and leaves an oily residue that causes the black pigment in my hair to shine.

Hanneman takes a step back and smiles, "You clean up real nice."

"One last thing." The shopkeeper hands me a metal tin of shredded leaves, "Chew on some mint before you go to the dance."

"Thanks."

I pull out a decent plug and bite down as Hanneman pins a green and white boutonniere to the collar of my vest. The mild heat of the leaves fill my mouth with a cool feeling that chills my breath. Fresh air exits my mouth and leaves behind a clean scent. Even though Edelgard and I kept our distance when she was teaching me to dance, something tells me Honora will be a lot closer tonight.

"I hope you enjoy the ball!" The shopkeeper yells as Hanneman and I exit the building. We wave her goodbye and make our way back towards Garreg Mach. The sun is starting to dip behind the mountains, and the night's eve is quickly approaching. Despite my confidence, this is probably one of the scariest things I've ever done...


	26. Chapter 25

Hanneman and I make our way through the front gates of Garreg Mach and proceed to the crowded entrance of the receptionist hall. We muzzle our way through the students and faculty blocking the way and attempt to reach the front. Through the vibrant visage of multicolored dresses and armor is a flash of pink standing at the entrance.

"I will say this, Charley isn't very hard to spot." Hanneman states.

Charley's hair isn't in a braided ponytail though. Nor are there any ribbons tying anything back. The metal plating on his Faerghus Royal Guard armor reflects the sunlight and causes him to glow with an intense, orange aura. The royal blue fabric has been scrubbed of all the faded bloodstains and pressed. Not a single wrinkle can be spotted.

Standing next to Charley is Fletcher, and a girl with a corsage that matches the boutonniere on Fletcher's black robe. The girl's brown hair has been tied back with a red ribbon. In fact, I've seen this girl before. She was the one that was helping the kids from all the different houses during the Eagle and Lion mock battle two months ago.

Wasn't she from the Blue Lions house though? Not that there's anything wrong with a guy from the Adrestian Empire going with a girl from Faerghus. It's just nobody does it because of the ideological and political differences. Those types of things are what start arguments and ill feelings, but maybe they've set their differences aside and chose companionship for the sake of the ball.

"I'll take your things." Hanneman says as he grabs the claymore off my back.

"Are you sure? I can run them back to the house."

"Nah. My office isn't that far. I'll bring them by your house in the morning."

"Well thank you." I reply as Hanneman takes my armor and claymore. The only thing I'm left with is my black steel sword, Akumu. Despite all the cool things Hanneman has instilled into my armor, I haven't become dependent upon it. Therefore, if a situation somehow arises, there won't be an issue.

Hanneman makes off with my belongings and heads in the direction of his office as I proceed towards Charley and Fletcher. They are conversing back and forth with that red headed kid named Sylvain.

"Looking cool, you jester!" Charley teases as I make my way into the group.

"The first and last time you'll ever see me in this outfit." I reply.

Sylvain is wearing pants, and a vest similar to mine. Except his vest has a flared collar made of wolf fur. He straightens out his gold caplet and fixes the collar on his blue vest, "Who's the luck lady?"

"Honora. How about you?"

"Charley and I decided to go by ourselves."

"Hmm…That's because we have something else in mind for tonight." Charley maliciously laughs as he rubs his hands together.

"Don't go around causing trouble." I sigh.

"Ah, don't worry Artorias! Jeralt just '**requires'** some assistance, and Charley and I volunteered. We couldn't helplessly stand by and let the old man guard the wine cellar by himself. What if someone got the bright idea to '**steal'** a couple bottles tonight?" Sylvain says with emphasis on the words, requires and steal.

"We can't let degenerates like that run around Garreg Mach. I mean, who would commit such an atrocious act?" Charley adds.

"Charley, I swear to Sothis if you get in any trouble…"

"I'm not going to get into trouble! We're just preforming a civic duty for the benefit of Garreg Mach!" Charley replies.

Out of all the people Jeralt could have picked to help him guard the wine cellar. He had to pick these two. Which come to think of it, it may not actually be such a bad idea after all.

That means Jeralt can take it easy while Charley and Sylvain patrol the obvious routes. In order to stop a troublemaker, you have to think like one. Which in reality, Charley and Sylvian only took the job in order to get their hands on a couple bottles of wine. Maybe teaching Charley the art of being a shadow was a mistake. Yet, that thought makes me smile.

"Just be aware that Jeralt will have my full permission to smack you if you step out of line." I state.

"Relax Artorias. Nothing is going to happen." Charley tries to reassure me.

The three of us step off to the side while everyone starts making their way to the ball room. Sylvain elbows me and points to the back of the group. Edelgard and Honora are slowly making their way towards us. Although Edelgard's violet dress looks stunning, it holds nothing to the emerald color of Honora's dress.

No wonder she was trying to hide it from me. The way the strapless dress clings to her body leaves me breathless. It has to be one of those that doesn't have fabric covering her back. That means my hand will actually be touching her shoulder.

The very thought of touching her bare skin causes me to swallow from impulse. The bitter sting of the mint seals my throat shut. Air is cut off to my lungs and pain expands through my chest. The soft wheeze quickly accelerates into a coughing fit. I immediately turn around and desperately try to yank the chewed mint leaves from my mouth.

"Take it easy there! She isn't even at the base of the steps yet!" Sylvain states as him and Charley slap my back to try and clear the mint out.

"Breathtaking. Isn't she?" Charley teases as the funnel cutting off the supply of air is finally removed.

I get my breathing back under control while spitting out any leaves stuck to my teeth. This has never happened before. Why can I win a duel, or slay an entire group of marauders with no feeling whatsoever, but the sight of Honora being in that dress causes me to feel weird? Very weird? My chest is on fire, and it feels like I'm about to bust out into a full sweat despite the weather cooling off.

Charley and Sylvian spin me around and coax me to meet her, "Just take a deep breath, and off you go!" Sylvian says.

I shake my head, breathe and head down the stairs. Edelgard and Honora nod at one another and Edelgard breaks off.

"You look amazing Artorias." Honora says.

"And you look absolutely beautiful. May I?" I ask.

Honora holds out her hand and smiles, "Please, my Liège."

I take a hold of her hand and help her traverse the stairs. She leans in and clings onto my arm as Charley and Sylvain follow behind us. We make our way through the receptionist hall and into the ball room. Golden chandlers from above paint the room a warm, yellow color. Tables dressed in fine tablecloth are decorated with a candelabra.

Rhea and Seteth are standing in front of an orchestra. Rhea's top knights, her advisors, some of the instructors and Byleth are standing by her side with their partners. It looks like Byleth asked Annette to go with him. That, or she asked him.

My body locks up with fear, and my pace slows down as we get closer to Rhea. Honora tugs me to press onward though.

"It's okay Artorias. They aren't going to do anything." Honora whispers in my ear.

Her kind and gentle voice brings me some comfort. I clear my mind of the doubt and press onward. The fact that she's taking me up there still worries me though. Why couldn't we just have waited in the crowd? Do we really have to go up there? With Honora being Rhea's top advisor, I unfortunately don't really have a choice.

Honora and I take our place and stand by Rhea's right side. She looks at me and examines my outfit, but I keep my attention forward. Rhea's gazing eyes cause me to well up with fear. It feels as if she's trying to find something to harass me over.

"Artorias."

"Yes Rhea?"

"You look nice."

"Thank you, Rhea."

Rhea returns her attention to the gathering crowd and walks out onto the dance floor. The entire room goes silent and everyone focuses on the archbishop.

Rhea stretches her arms out, "Ladies and gentleman, welcome. Tonight, we celebrate a very special occasion. An occasion to help commemorate the hard work of the students and faculty of Garreg Mach. Everyone here has worked tirelessly at protecting this great country, but unfortunately, there are some that cannot be with us as of now. Let us have a moment of silence for those that cannot be here."

Everyone bows their heads and closes their eyes. The memories of what happened at Remire come back to my mind. The horrors that unfolded at that place. Those poor men and women. They probably had sons, daughters, brothers, or sisters coming here, and they are unable to attend.

The thought makes me angry, but I know that there's nothing that could have been done. All I can do as of now is take the time to honor those who lost their lives and seek to vindicate the vain cause of their deaths.

"Sothis be with those that cannot be with us." Rhea says as everyone lifts their heads. "Tonight, let us enjoy what we have been given because of the courage of our loved ones."

The conductor over the orchestra taps the podium with his baton and gains the attention of the musicians. Everyone spreads out and Honora faces me. She holds out her hand and gets into a dancing position. Just like Edelgard taught. I place my hand on her shoulder. The immediate feel of her bare skin causes my heart to skip. Honora's body trembles from the touch, and she gasps.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just…"

"It's okay Artorias. The moment just caught me off guard." Honora replies.

She places her hand on my arm, and we prepare for the musical number to start. It's just like how Edelgard and I practiced. Except this time, I'm on the verge of collapsing because Honora is really messing with my ability to think and properly function.

The orchestra starts the music, and I take a step forward and gently lean to the right. Honora steps back and leans to her right. The both of us make a full circle as we spin around the ballroom floor.

The gentle melody from the musician's instruments, the sparkle of Honora's eyes, and the luring nature of her smile causes me to doubt myself and my belief. For a long time, the whole purpose of my existence was to serve as a tool for war.

A destructive instrument that brings nothing but chaos and death to those unfortunate enough to become a target. I was taught to be emotionless and to never feel anything. No matter what trauma was inflicted on me.

However, Honora is making me feel something I haven't ever felt. It's like what I hear these student couples converse back and forth about. Something like love, but not like the love Charley and I have. No. That's the sacred bond between a teacher and their pupil.

The love I feel towards Honora is more like what a male student feels for his female counterpart. That strange feeling of wanting to be with one another, but in a much more physical and emotional way. I never had a relationship other than casual conversations with everyone, but maybe Honora is someone I want to experience love with.

"Is something wrong?" She asks.

"It's nothing. I'm just not used to this kind of social interaction." I reply.

The music being produced from the orchestra slows down and comes to a graceful end. Those that were not dancing applaud. Honora takes my hand and guides me off the ball floor as the next group take their place and prepare for the next song. Byleth escorts Annette off the floor and disappears into the crowd.

Among the next set of people is Edelgard, Dimitri, as well as Fletcher and the girl he asked to the dance. Charley and Sylvian are standing on the other side of the floor. They both look over each other's shoulder and make their way towards Jeralt. I guess their shift in the wine cellar is about to start.

Honora nudges me and motions that she wants to go outside. I take her hand again, and she leads me out to where the classrooms are. Multiple groups of students make their way to the tower of the goddess, but Honora and I remain in front of the classrooms.

"Artorias…" Honora clenches her hands, "most people go to the goddess tower on the night of the ball to make subtle… confessions, but I don't think I can wait that long."

She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye, "Artorias…for a very long time, we've just been acquaintances. Friends to say the least, but as time went by, I think…I think…I want to be more…than just friends."

"Honora, I know what you are expecting me to say…" I reply as I try to find the courage to make my statement. Honora tenses up and holds her breath.

"But what I want to say is different than how I really feel. Even though my biggest fear in life is the unknown, I refuse to say there's someone better for you, because I want to be that better someone." I reply.

Honora wipes her puffy eyes and let's out a relieved sigh at my answer. She certainly wasn't expecting that. My whole life, I've told myself that I wasn't ever afraid. It was something that had to be done in order for me to properly function and complete a mission.

However, when things didn't go according to the plan, or something came up, it would always worry me because the only thing worse than getting a knife in the back is the unforgiving slap of the unknown. Just like what happened at Remire.

Honora wraps her arms around me as we hug one another. The enchantment of this moment, and the realization that I am finally taking the appropriate steps to overcoming a fear that's held me back for many years is almost enough to put me into a blissful sleep. However, there is something I have to do, but I would rather do it when Honora and I are truly alone.

"Honora, can I stay at your place tonight?"

"My place is a mess, but if you are willing to take me to your house, yes." She replies.

Honora takes a hold of my arm, and we make our way out of the main sanctuary. I was debating on picking my claymore and armor up before heading out, but Hanneman can bring it to me in the morning.

Honora puts her weight on my shoulder, and uses me as a balance as we walk up the incline that leads to my house. As nice as it would be to sit in the spring with Honora, there's not enough moonlight for her to properly see. Even if I was guiding her, she could still get lost because of the low visibility.

I grab the key from under the eaves of the house, unlock the door and let Honora in. She takes a seat on my bed as I light some kindling in the fireplace and slowly nourish the fire. The orange light radiating off the blackened wood erases all trace of darkness engulfing the room.

"Do you have any spare clothes I can sleep in tonight?" Honora asks.

I point to my dresser, "Yeah. In there."

Honora digs through the clothes and pulls out a couple shirts and some sleeping pants. I stare into the fire and think about how I am going to tell Honora this. It's something that should have been done a long time ago, and it's not my love confession. No. This is much more important. It regards something I did back when Honora was still an apprentice under Rhea's last advisor.

I rub my chin and think back to the past. Speaking of which, whatever happened to the previous advisor? I don't remember there ever being a succession or party commemorating her service to Garreg Mach.

"Hey Honora?"

"Yeah Artorias?"

"Whatever happened to the previous advisor?"

"I think she transferred to a church in Adrestia." Honora replies as the fabric of her dress hits the ground.

"What for?"

"I don't really know. Rhea said something about Adrestia needing a very skilled white caster. After she left, I was appointed the top advisor's position."

"I see. Have you heard anything from her?"

"Not since the day she left."

That doesn't make any sense though. Wouldn't she be sending a status report on the current situation or her accomplishments? Something is very off about that advisor never coming back, and the thought is starting to make me worry.

Even though this night will probably be one of the most peaceful I've experienced in a long time, reality continues to keep its hands on my shoulders. Constantly breathing down my neck and bragging about its cruel intentions for this world.

"Are you okay?" Honora asks as she sits down beside me.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"You said that advisor never came back, and it's just…"

"Rhea's not going to send me away. If that's what you are worried about." Honora replies as she lays her head on my shoulder.

Honora kneads her hands together and stares into the fire while I kick my shoes off. Cool air inside the room chills the beads of sweat scattered on my body as I pull the vest and pants off. The soles of my feet slowly expand past the narrow border they were pressed into and feeling chases the numbness out of my toes.

"Those shoes were terrible. I'm so glad they're off now." I state as I lean back and stare at the ceiling.

Honora grabs the blanket off my bed and throws it over my face. I act like nothing happened and continue to stare up. Something soft hits me in the face and bounces off. Honora's soft voice tries to hold back a joyful laugh as another blow hits my head. I ease my hands out from under the blanket and wait.

Feathers inside the cloth quietly wisp through the air, and the sound of a downward strike cuts through the air. My fingers wrap around Honora's wrist as my hands come together and prevent the pillow from hitting me. I yank her my direction and she lands on top of me. Honora squeals with laughter as she tries to free herself from my grasp.

"How do you do that?" She giggles.

"It's called Mikiri." I reply.

"Sounds dumb and complicated." Honora teases as she lets go of the pillow.

The both of us wrestle with each other. I relax my arms and let Honora pin my hands to the ground. She pulls the blanket back and uncovers my face. The first thing my eyes see is Honora's chest.

Air in my lungs superheats itself and blasts out of my mouth with a massive cough. The gap between the shirt and her stomach is astounding. I don't remember her breasts being this big. As much as I should look away, I can't because this is better than that time she was bathing.

"So what exactly is this 'mikiri' you speak of? Explain." Honora asks as she lays down on top of me.

I clear my throat and take a deep breath, "it was the final test my mother gave me. She stood behind me with a long, wooden stick and taunted me with fake blows. I had to predict, with my eyes shut when she was actually going to strike and dodge it."

"You seem to be really fond of your mother. What was she like? Aside from the training?" Honora asks.

"When she wasn't beating me into the ground and demanding that I get back up, she was a very kind woman. Yet very distant. Mother didn't say much, nor care about much apart from me. She always wanted a child of her own, but because of the civil war that erupted in her native land, her lover died in battle. She tried to fight back, but even the tactics she created wasn't going to turn the tide of war. So she fled her land." I reply.

"What did she look like?"

"Before she got sick, her hair was the color of a spring meadow. It was this beautiful green color, and her eyes solid gold." I say as I try to stay positive, but all I can think of is that one fateful day. A day that will forever haunt me.

"I'm sorry…"

Honora lifts her head up and looks at me, "sorry? For what?"

"For my behavior when I first arrived." I shamefully answer as I close my eyes and try to avoid visual contact, "there wasn't anything anyone could have done, and I hated you, your craft, and the people who practiced it…" I press my hands into my face and attempt to kill the emotions swelling up inside my heart.

"I'll hear you out if you tell me." Honora replies.

"When mother got sick, her hair started to lose color. She lost her appetite, and her face was constantly pale. There were days I had to carry her on my back because she could hardly stand. I consulted an expert in white magic and asked if there was anything he could do. His exact words after the examination was, 'there's only one thing I can do, but it's a choice she'll have to make.'"

"Mother had me step out of the room and shortly after, she was walking again. I was never so happy in my life. That night at the inn, Mother gave me the black sword, Akumu and her belongings. She said it was an honor, and a blessing to have raised me, and that it wasn't possible for her to be any prouder. The following morning when I got up, I made her favorite tea so we could celebrate her recovery, but she never opened her eyes."

The memory of me shaking her lifeless body and begging her to get up causes my head to swell with the bitter feel of anger. How I stood there clenching my fists to the point my palms bled as tears rolled down my face. It went against everything I was taught, but at that moment, I didn't care if it was disgraceful weakness.

I wanted to kill that man so much for taking her away from me, but somewhere inside me, I couldn't. It was almost like I knew this was going to happen, but I chose to be naïve and positive. Make the best of it as some would say.

Those feelings of sorrow and hatred towards white magic etched itself so deep into my soul that I refused to believe white magic or its practitioners served any purpose in the world. Even if they were preforming miracles and healing the sick.

"The only person I ever had was taken from me, and that was when I experienced true despair, because my life became unnecessary. I was alone with nothing but the wind guiding me through my pointless existence." I state.

Honora lays her head on my chest and presses one of her hands into mine, "I'm sorry about what happened to her. I'm not trying to defend myself or my craft because I don't know how you truly feel. Nor can I imagine being in a situation like that, but your mother must have been in so much pain if she was willing to accept a mercy spell."

"However, you are wrong about one thing. You loved your mother to the point that she became part of your identity, and when she was gone, you said you had lost your purpose in life. I know just as much as she did that your life wasn't just tied to her. If it was, then she would have never given you her belongings or told you that she was proud. Your mother wants you to live a life that brings you joy, and her honor."

Honora pushes her fingers through the gaps and closes her hand around mine, "I don't harbor any resentment towards you. Nor have I ever. You felt like my craft took your life away, and the anger you felt was from circumstance. Not because you're a bad person. I wish I could have been there for you. To help you shoulder that burden until you were ready to get rid of it."

No matter how much I resist, my hand closes out of impulse. The emotions within me try to overflow and gush through my eyes. I bite my lip and fight with all the strength I have to resist the urge to give into the weakness.

Honora places her thumb under my left eye and wipes away a drop of water that has managed to escape, "You know, I think you're even more cute when you try hiding your feelings from me."

The soft and warm feeling of skin touches my forehead. My eyes burst open, and all I can see is Honora's chin. Her pursed lips are pressed against my head and her fingers tighten around my hand. The sound of her lips leave my forehead with a wet smack. Red stains her cheeks with bright blush as we stare into each other's lucid eyes.

"Artorias."

"Yes…" I stammer.

"I love you." Honora whispers as she leans closer and closer to my lips…


	27. Chapter 26

The blanket skids across my chest as Honora rolls over. I sit up and rub my numb face while Honora let's out a lazy yawn and falls back into her deep slumber. Last night went by way too fast. A moment of bliss, and then it vanished as quickly as it came.

I put my shirt on and slide on some undergarments since Hanneman is supposed to be bringing my stuff by later. Don't want him getting the wrong idea. Although it isn't going to take a genius to figure out what really happened.

I poke at the ash and stir up some embers. The wood that hasn't completely burned crackles and gasps as it draws in air and reignites the snuffed fire. The events that unfolded between Honora and I last night still has my heart pounding.

Although change is something I have never been particularly fond of, I would for her sake. Even if that meant facing an unknown future. Because last night, my true feelings revealed themselves. I would do anything to try and make things right. Not only against Honora, but Rhea and Seteth as well. Even if Rhea doesn't forgive me, it's time to man up and face what has to be done. For better or for worse.

_Konk! Konk!_

"You awake in there!?" Jeralt yells from outside.

"Yeah! Hold on!"

I pull the blanket over Honora's chest, and unlock the front door.

"I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" Jeralt asks.

"No. Not at all. Please come in." I reply.

"Good, because most people don't like being bothered after the ball."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience." I answer.

"I am speaking from experience."

Jeralt pretends Honora isn't here. He sits down and faces away from her as I toss a log on top of the fire and sit down. Jeralt digs around in his side satchel and pulls out a sealed envelope.

"This is for you."

I open the envelope and pull the letter out,

_Alexander Shawcross. Corporal of the fifth legion_

"I am guessing this is the officer that will oversee my next mission?"

"Yes. He's the one you'll want to speak to once Rhea clears you for combat."

"Thank you Jeralt."

So Alexander Shawcross is the man that was the one that killed all those people during the western church attack? Catherine is part of the fifth legion but was recruited for another job when this all happened. That's exactly why he got away with it, because Catherine would have killed him the moment he stepped out of line.

The fact Shawcross attacked that village leads me to believe that he's tired of being the bottom of the rung. With no one to question his motives, he got a thirst of what that power can grant him. Now that he's tasted it, he is going to do it again.

"When do you think I'll be able to speak to this man?" I ask.

"I'm going to talk to Rhea in a couple days. I should have all the paperwork filled out by then." He answers.

"Good."

I fold the letter up and stick it in my dresser for future reference. This means that by next week, Rhea will give me a contract. She'll probably stage a mission to send him, and a small group on. That's when I'll be cleared for action and given an objective. Now depending on Rhea's mood will determine on whether she will want the whole group dead, or just Shawcross.

No matter though. I used to sneak through outposts and cities on high alert to carry out missions with no collateral. So a group of knights wondering around the woods will be easy. Even if it's just for one man.

"You know, I still remember my first ball." Jeralt teases.

"Please stop." I answer.

"I somehow managed to survive an arrow to the chest, and the woman that was caring for me was this really cute healer named Sitri, and do you know what she asked me?"

"Stop…"

"She looked at me and said, "you're kind of handsome for a mercenary."

I rub my face in disappointment, "Sweet Sothis…"

Jeralt removes his right gauntlet and pulls a silver ring off his marriage finger. Several purple stones shaped like a star rest within the precious metal. "A couple days later, Sitri asked me to the ball. About two months later, we were sitting under a tree, talking about the future and watching the sun go down."

Jeralt clears his throat and holds up his right hand, "She took my right hand and put it on her stomach and said, '_I didn't want to tell you this, but I can't hide it anymore. I'm pregnant._' As scared as I was, it wouldn't have been right to leave. So I told her that I was going to take responsibility, and about a year later, Byleth came along, but it came at the cost of Sitri's life..."

Jeralt takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm. A feeling I know all too well. That looming emotion that comes out of nowhere and attempts to take over. However, I wouldn't cast any judgement.

Jeralt's wife probably didn't even get to hold Byleth the moment he was born. She might have gotten a glimpse of her baby but that was it. Jeralt was then forced to raise the boy all by himself. That alone is a burden an average man would have been crushed by.

"Sitri would be proud of you, and I know she would be proud of her son. I believe that even in death, your wife's smile is eternal." I reply.

"Sometimes, I am still afraid. Afraid that when I die, all the blood I spilt and lives I claimed will be laid before her, and Sitri won't see me as that handsome mercenary, but a war mongering killer."

"I don't think she will. Something tells me that she loves you way too much to turn her back. I mean, you raised her boy to be a responsible man. What more could a mother ask for?"

"I want to believe that, but sometimes it feels like one sin outweighs the ten good deeds you've done." Jeralt says as he puts his ring back on.

"Well, all you can do is ask for forgiveness if Sitri feels that way, but who knows? Maybe she won't even want an apology. Sitiri may just want to be back in the arms of her handsome mercenary." I state. "But…for the time being. All you can do is live your life in a way that honors her memory."

Jeralt let's out a relieved chuckle and rubs the back of his head. Even if that wasn't the answer he was looking for, hopefully it will ease his mind of the constant worry about his wife's judgement. This conversation has got me thinking though. If Honora ends up pregnant, then I'd like to have Jeralt's guidance.

I've never seen Jeralt as a father because I already see someone else as my father figure, but I have come to respect Jeralt as that older brother that always rushes head first into a situation, gets into trouble, but bails himself out. Serving as the "don't do what I would, and if you do, don't name it after me" person.

"Artorias, thank you. You don't know how much it means to have a regular conversation with someone. It's kind of off putting when people continually refer to me as blade breaker, or Jeralt the Great."

"You're welcome."

"I know you're not a big drinker, but I think me and you should head to the tavern tonight." Jeralt chuckles.

"You buying?" I ask.

"Nah, I was thinking you could."

"Jeralt, you'd drink Rhea's salary gone in one night. How in Sothis' name do you expect a poor bastard like me to pay such a tab?"

The both of us laugh as someone knocks and slightly opens the door. Charley slowly sticks his head through the crack and peeks in, "What's so funny?"

"We're laughing at you fool." Jeralt says.

"How dare you talk bad about me behind my back." Charley states as he opens the door all the way and enters while Sylvain follows him in. Judging by their messy and thrown together appearances, it appears they have just woke up. Sylvain's red hair drips with fresh water and is partially combed while his armor looks like it's just been scrubbed with a dry rag. At least he actually put effort into looking presentable.

Charley's pink hair is full of knots and wrinkles while dried, red spots stain parts of his glistening armor. Both of their eyes are still heavy with alcohol, but it looks like Charley is struggling more to shake off the wine's effect. Charley and Sylvian suddenly stop as they notice Honora fast asleep.

Charley and Sylvian snicker under their breath, but Charley holds a finger up to his lip and tries to shush.

"Did you have a good night last night?" Sylvian asks. Charley bites his lip and tries to keep from laughing.

"Sure did. What about you two?"

"I did. That was until this son of a bitch ate all the sandwiches."

"Hey! I asked you if you wanted some, and you said no!" Charley replies.

"That's because I wasn't expecting you to eat the whole damn platter!" Sylvain replies.

"I gave you fair warning that I hadn't eat and drinking only makes me hungrier!"

"You didn't bother saying hey Sylvain, would you like me to save you some for later?"

"Snooze and lose." Charley teases as him and Sylvain sit down beside me.

"You didn't do anything stupid last night. Did you?" I ask.

"Artorias, I couldn't even walk a straight line, and Sylvain didn't even remember what day it was. Leonie found us wondering outside the kitchen, and she helped us back to Sylvain's room. He went to bed, and I slept on the couch."

"And Leonie?"

Sylvian throws his hands up, "I went straight to bed when I got to the room! Leonie and Charley were the ones kissing on one another before he came into the room!"

"Okay. I admit it. I was kissing on her outside Sylvain's room, but we didn't go any further." Charley states.

As angry as it makes me, at least Charley was responsible enough to avoid the bigger problem. I made it clear that I didn't like him messing around unless he picks someone and pursues her alone. Just as long as she's willing to pursue him with equal passion. It always made me mad when some girl would break Charley's heart, and it made me even more mad if he broke a girl's heart.

Charley and Sylvain rehash their drunken, misfit adventures and joke around with one another when a certain event played out. Especially when Sylvain threaten to lock Charley out if he didn't hurry up and finish kissing up on Leonie.

I look over at Honora and notice she's got the blanket over her head. The blanket moves around and stretches as she pokes her head out and sits up. She's put her shirt back on and has slipped into a pair of my undergarments.

"Morning everybody." Honora yawns as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes.

"Morning Misses Honora." Everyone replies.

"Morning Artorias." She smiles.

"Good Morning Honora."

Charley looks directly at me and rubs his chin, "Hmmm…Special treatment I see?"

I ruffle Charley's pink hair and gently push him away, "Shut up."

_Click…_

The muffled sound of my sword kicking itself out of its sheathe grabs my attention. Red mist spews out of the sheathe as everyone else jokes and engages in a light hearted conversation about the ball. I immediately stand up and listen.

"Artorias?" Jeralt asks.

"What's wrong?" Charley adds.

I hold my hand up and request silence. A monster this close to Garreg Mach? How? There's no way one could have gotten this close without someone seeing it. I carefully step over to my sword and pick it up.

Charley comes to the realization of what's going on. "Oh no…" He whispers. Sylvain quietly asks Charley what's going on with my sword, and Charley explains. The curiosity on Sylvain's face melts into dread as anxiety fills his heart.

"What is it Artorias?" Jeralt asks as he kneels by my side.

"Monster."

Jeralt grabs his javelin and forms up. Sylvain slowly draws his sword as Charley takes his hammer off his back. I place my hand on the ground and try to locate where it's at. However, the faint vibrations aren't strong enough to give me an accurate indication.

I signal to get on the ground. Charley and Sylvain lay down as quietly as possible. I look back at Jeralt and use my free hand to communicate my silent words by pointing at him then to my ears and giving the knight's common command of holding a position. I point back to myself and imply that the monster will have a harder time hearing me.

"Can hear metal plates. Don't move. No armor and barefoot. Has trouble detecting me."

Jeralt nods his head, "I'll assist you if you get in trouble."

"Charley, When the fighting starts, you and Sylvain escort Honora back to Garreg Mach." I silently mouth.

He shakes his head, but implies he's coming back. It feels like the monster is approaching from the right side of the house. I carefully open the front door and peek from the inside. Some quail in the distance fly off. I use some nearby bushes to conceal my presence and scale up a tree.

The bushes where the quail flew off shake, and a couple sticks snap. Judging by the amount of sound the step made, it's not heavy enough to be a black beast. Yet, it's certainly not small either.

I avoid stepping out on the top branch and keep the tree between me and the monster. Despite the creature trying to stay silent, it's almost impossible for it to remain invisible. This thing is probably used to stalking people on horseback since the horseshoes tapping the ground generates enough sound to mask its approach.

A long black snout pokes out of the bushes and into the open. Shiny, orange colored slime oozes from the creature's body, and its translucent eyes are covered with a fold of skin. The fluid and mucous pooling around its body almost resembles something that's just been born. Like a newborn colt or a calf. Which means this person has just turned, but why haven't they turned into a black beast?

The sound of someone running towards my house catches the attention of the monster as I look in the direction of the steps. Byleth is running full speed up the path. He places his feet carefully and avoids tripping as he starts up the incline.

"Artorias! The chapel is under attack!" He yells.

Byleth stops in his tracks and grabs his creator sword as he notices the monster approaching my house. Strings of yellow saliva roll off the unsightly beast's teeth and blasts out of its mouth with a bloodcurdling squall. The folded skin blocks its ability to see up as it charges towards Byleth. I hop onto the top branch and dive off towards the creature.

Black steel buries itself up to the hilt as the sword slices through the back of the monster. It loses its footing and trips over itself. I take a step back and attempt to yank. The beast rears its head back and forces me to jump off.

Its disfigured, twisted teeth snap at me and causes me to go on the defensive. I weave in between vicious, bone crushing bites and jump over claw swipes that knock over trees. The crest on Byleth's arm glows through his ebony colored sleeve as he flicks the sword to the side and forces it into that chain-like whip.

The monster turns its head sideways and lunges at me. I jump over the incoming attack, land on the base of its neck and slice into the nasty looking spine. Byleth whips his sword around, entangles the back leg and yanks. The blade cuts clean through the flesh and breaks the bone.

The leg tumbles across the ground and leaves a skid of red in-between when it hits the ground and lifts off. The front door of my house bursts open, and the pungent sound of something cutting through the air approaches me at a rapid rate. I grab a hold of a nearby branch and hoist myself up.

Jeralt's javelin strikes the creature in the eye with such force that it snaps the wings off and penetrates all the way. Only a hand's grasp is all that's sticking out. The creature let's out a weak screech, and the corruption melts away. The shoulders of a teenager burst out of the monster's decaying body. Laying in a pool of blood and black is a naked, lifeless girl with a javelin lodged through her body, and a missing leg.

I drop down by Byleth, and the both of us approach the puddle. Jeralt, Charley, Sylvain and Honora rush out and circle around the body. Honora puts her hands on her mouth and fights back tears as Jeralt sighs, "Damnit… This was one of the students that went missing when Flayn got kidnapped."

"So does that mean this girl…was one of our classmates?" Sylvain asks.

"Yes…" Byleth says.

These words take me back to that night Faceless was trying to kidnap Charley. Is this what they were doing to their victims? Forcibly turning them into monsters? The idea causes my soul to fill with anger and hatred. This girl…she didn't deserve this. Nobody deserves this, and the idea that this could have been Charley fills me with even more rage.

Sylvain eases closer and closer until he's standing over her body. He kneels down and touches the back of her head. Sylvain rubs his face with his free hand and tries to wipe the sadness away. He pulls the javelin out of the girl's body and tosses it to the side.

"Father, Artorias, The knights need you at the old chapel. I don't know all the details, but judging by this, there's probably more of these things." Byleth says as he puts his sword away.

"Alright. Charley, Sylvain, get Honora back to the sanctuary." I say.

Sylvain scoops the dead girl up into his arms and stands up, "Promise me something."

"What is it?" Jeralt asks.

"Promise that these victims will get a proper funeral. Even if they are indistinguishable." Sylvain replies.

"You have our word." Jeralt says as we prepare to go our separate ways.

"Artorias?"

"Yes Charley?"

"You better survive."

"I will son. I will."

Charley lets out a sigh of relief, and we break off. Jeralt and Byleth lead the way while I tail the back. "Shouldn't you go get your armor?" Byleth asks.

"There's no time because it's at Hanneman's office."

"Don't do anything that's going to get yourself killed." Jeralt adds.

"If we're dealing with monsters, I'll distract it if you two focus on dealing most of the damage." I answer.

Up ahead is the metal fence that leads into the old chapel. Within the confines of the old chapel, knights and beasts similar to what the three of us killed earlier wage battle. Metallic sparks, blood and corruption fly through the air as knights and monsters viciously attack one another.

Jeralt comes upon a side gate that's been secured with chains. He rams his javelin into the lock, breaks it off and kicks the gate so hard that it snaps off the hinges. A sense of true unholiness fills my soul as affected students lay all over the ground. Dismembered and drowning in black puddles.

Not far from the main entrance, Katherine and Alois are taking on one of the beasts as their squad takes on another. Judging by the results as of now, they are making progress. They haven't suffered many casualties, and that's a good thing. However, these things we are killing were Garreg Mach students at one time, so nobody is walking home a winner after this.

"Look!" Jeralt states as he points at a student hiding under a piece of rubble.

She's laying perfectly still as a monster Catherine and Alois are unable to attend to roams around the chapel.

"Artorias, draw it this way! I have an idea!" Byleth states.

"Can do!"

Byleth and Jeralt hide behind some rumble while I move up. The monster notices the girl hiding under the shattered piece of marble and proceeds to snap at her with its giant maw.

"HELP!" She screams.

I summon some mana into my hand and form a spell. Lighting blasts out of my fingertip and strikes the creature in the side of the face. It howls in shock and turns around. I hold my arms wide open and take a couple steps in the monster's direction in a very, sarcastic and arrogant manner.

It looks at me and then back at the girl as it tries to make a decision on what it really wants to do. I hold my hand up and prepare another sigil. The monster let's out a croaking cough and focuses solely on me. I slowly back up to the general area Byleth and Jeralt are hiding. The creature charges directly at me. I cover my eyes and crush the lighting sigil within my hand.

A bright blue light flashes, and an ear grating thunderclap erupts. The monster backs off, and the folds above its eyes completely shut. Jeralt and Byleth rush towards the beast as I channel mana into my hands again and form another lighting spell.

The moment Jeralt stabs the creature, I blast it in the face with a weak bolt to keep it blinded and distracted. Byleth backs off and breaks his creator sword into the whip form. The monster flips around in Jeralt's direction and bites.

Fear fills my heart as he drops his javelin and catches the thing by its lip. The metal of his boots throw up a brown dust as he skids across the ground. The thing attempts to bite him, but Jeralt's joyful expression doesn't leave his face.

"That all you got!?" He yells as he balls up one of his fists and shatters a tooth with a solid punch. Jeralt yanks the fragment out and runs it through the floor of the monster's mouth.

The creature backs away from him and looks in my direction. I zap it again with another bolt. Byleth slings his sword around and drives the weapon into the creature's back. The bone from his weapon turns a brazen orange color and melts into the monster's flesh.

Jeralt picks his javelin back up and runs the steel tip all the way through the creature's neck. A solid black line of blood and corruption flies through the air and splashes across the ground as each individual link in Byleth's weapon releases the monster's back with a fleshy, burnt pop.

The creature staggers around as it tries to remain standing. A high-pitched wail comes out of its mouth as it collapses to the ground. Despite the grave wounds, the thing constantly tries to get up. I stick my sword into the creature's neck and push down. A lethal, yet painless cut slits through the throat, and the struggling monster slowly dissolves and spits out a mutilated body of a boy.

The girl that was hiding under the rubble slowly crawls out and straightens her red hair. "Boy, that was a little too close. Thanks guys." She says as she dusts herself.

"I don't know why you are here, but you need to get back to the sanctuary. Now." Jeralt states as he observes the distant battle Catherine and Alois are fighting. It looks like it's almost over, and the fight is leaning heavily in Catherine's favor.

"Well you see, I was sent here…" The red head says as she raises her hand.

"Sent here? Sent here for what?" Byleth asks.

The girl lowers her hand, and the sound of metal scraping against wood launches something. Out of the corner of my eye, a brown and blurry line soars through the air. Byleth grunts and his feet are swept out from under him. The back of his head hits the ground, and he gasps. An arrow has struck him in the shoulder.

I look in the direction the arrow came from. Standing outside the fence gate is that cold, grey mask wielding a silver colored bow. Her massive sword is strapped to her back as she turns around and walks off.

"Byleth!" Jeralt yells at the sight of his son's injury. He runs over and tries to prop Byleth up.

Before I can truly gage what is going on, the red head girl uses the distraction to charge. In her hand lies a curved dagger that's been forged out of some kind of bone. She drags the blade across her arm. Red crystals sprout out from every direction as droplets of crimson drip from her arm.

"Get away from him!" I yell as I take aim with a lighting spell.

The moment the liquid plasma leaves my fingertip, a swirl of wind appears in front of me and something grabs a hold of my wrist. The lighting spell strikes a nearby tomb and blows a chunk of the door off. The dust settles and standing in front of me is a tall person wearing a wicked looking mask.

It slaps my sword out of my hand and digs its fingers into my neck. I slam my leg into the black metal plate protecting his ribs. The armor screeches and caves in from the kick. My attacker flinches from the impact, but refuses to let go. It hoists me up into the air with a restrained growl of anger. High enough that I can see over his white wyvern skin collar.

"Witness the suffering for which you have instilled because of your disobedience." A deep, masculine voice says.

The moment he says that, the red head stabs Jeralt in the back with her blood dagger. Fear poisons my mind as this man forces me to watch. Jeralt grinds his teeth in agony, but the first thing he does is throw himself over Byleth as the woman yanks the blade out. The crystals break off into his back as she stabs him two more times.

Byleth stares in horror as Jeralt protects him from the incoming blows. My mouth opens and attempts to let out an enraged scream filled with hate, but this man's grip on my throat prevents me from doing anything but gasp for air.

"This is only the beginning. Everything you've ever known, everyone you've ever loved will now suffer for your insolence towards me and CEK."

His arm tosses me through the air and slams me into the ground. My vision flashes, and the tiny amount of air left in my lungs blasts out of my chest. He lifts his boot up and stomps down. My hands catch his foot out of reflex. What feels like a boulder attempts to pin me to the ground.

"Get away from him you son of a bitch!" Jeralt yells.

The feeling in my arms disappears as the both of us push against one another. Although I can't see the expression on his face, he seems shocked because it feels like he's putting everything he has into pushing me down.

"Die… on your feet…NOT UNDER SOMONE'S BOOT!" I yell as I shove him off.

He hops back as I return to my feet and prepare another spell.

"One thing is for certain. You have his spirit, as well as his blood." The masked man says.

Mana forces the sigil into a fire spell. The man pulls out a knife and wedges it in between his face and mask. The fireball leaves my hand. What looks like a red wing bursts out of his left shoulder and solidifies in front of him. The fireball connects with the blood colored wing, and the makeshift protection shatters.

Several quill shaped needles stick into my arms, chest and legs. The feeling of being pricked with a knife tip hits me all over the body. The quills snap in half, and the pain amplifies immensely. The prickly feel rapidly escalates into burning agony that is eating me from the inside out. Blood beads pour out of the wounds with a fiery fury. My body overrides my will and forces me to collapse to one knee.

"Come on! MOVE!" Thoughts within the mind scream.

The man places his hands behind his back and walks towards me with a prideful strut. He places his index finger on my forehead and barely pushes. His insulting touch overpowers the sense of balance in the body, and I fall to my side.

"You have my respect. You actually survived. This time."

The feeling of bitter disgrace drives me to try and get back up. A bizarre feeling of intense pain is quickly followed by a sense of numbness that causes my arms and legs to spasm. Yet, the sight of that woman's knife sticking out of Jeralt's back as she antagonizes Byleth boils the blood inside me.

I grab my sword and use it as a crutch to lean on, "Goddamnit…Goddamnit...Come…on…"

I force my feet underneath me and try to stand, but the numbness eats away what little feeling is left, and I'm stuck in a crouching position. The woman pulls her knife out of Jeralt's back and walks over to me. A string of blood drips from the weapon's tip as she approaches me.

"You…bitch…"

"Such harsh words for a man that's supposed to be a saint." She says as she kicks the sword out from under me. My face plows into the ground, and a flash of light pulses within my eyes. The man that drove me into the ground keeps watch as she grabs me by my black hair and forces me to look at her.

"Why are you wasting your time with the church? Don't you know you were meant to serve a much greater purpose?"

"I get that a lot. Especially when people beg for their life." I reply.

"Oh ho! Such arrogance! Even after a clear defeat, you still remain defiant! I like that…" She states as she presses her knife into my right cheek and gently pulls it down. A streak of blood rolls down and drips to the ground underneath me.

"Answer me this sword saint, aren't you sick of being one of Rhea's little toys? I mean, you're the best swordsman at Garreg Mach and yet, she treats you like week old trash, and have you ever wondered why?"

"Not really…" I lie.

"What if I told you that it has something to do with you. Do you really think Rhea and Seteth's restrained hatred really steeps from personal ideals? No…you know what the answer is deep down. Yet, you are too foolish to accept it."

"Hey…HEY! Get away from him you bitch!" Charley yells from the distance.

She shoves my head into the ground and whispers in my ear, "If you want the truth, then meet me at the south end of Garreg Mach's village. You have until tomorrow night to make a decision."

The sound of a blunt object wisps over my body and that girl jumps back. I look up and see Charley, Sylvain, Felix and Catherine have rushed to my aid while Alois and some of the knights save Byleth and Jeralt.

"Think about it!" That girl yells as she takes her place right beside the man. He summons a magic circle, and a massive gust of wind completely erases their presence.

"What did she do to you!? Talk to me damnit!" Charley panics as he works his arms underneath my body.

"I'm fine…" I weakly say as Charley and Felix hoist me up to my feet. Underneath my body is a small pool of blood that's leaked out of all the pinhole shaped injuries.

"You're not fine Artorias!" Charley replies.

"Byleth and Jeralt need…"

"Look under your feet Artorias! The entire front of your body is red!" Charley snaps.

"They're being helped Artorias. Don't worry." Felix states as him and Charley wrap my arms around their necks.

"Wait…"

"I got it Artorias." Catherine states as she puts my sword back in its sheathe.

Some of the church's healers are tending to Byleth and are removing the arrow. However, Jeralt has been rushed off. I don't know what that woman stabbed him with, but the fact that it was crystalized, and she hit him multiple times in the back leads me to believe he's probably in the worst shape.

"Who's the best healer at Garreg Mach!?" Charley frantically asks.

"Probably Honora and Manuela, but I think they're taking Jeralt to them." Catherine says.

"Of course! Of course! Students then!"

"Mercedes is an A rank now." Felix says.

"And that Marianne girl in the Golden Deer seems pretty proficient as well." Sylvian adds.

"See if you can get them!"

"Sure thing Charley. Meet me at my room." Sylvain answers as he takes off into a dead sprint in front of us.

"Out of the way!" Charley yells as we make our way through a curious gathering at Garreg Mach's front gate.

People converse back and forth on what's possibly going on. One girl mentions the old chapel while a boy says something about monsters. A conversation gets tossed up, and some of the people start making open claims about the security and safety at Garreg Mach.

"If they could do that to the sword saint, then what chance would we actually have?" One boy from the Blue Lions house questions.

"I don't know how true it is, but I heard that Jeralt has just been rushed to the infirmary." A girl from the Golden Deer house adds.

"Okay, break it up! Things like this happen to the best of us!" Some knights state as they try and calm the rapidly panicking crowd.

"Can you make it up the stairs?" Charley asks.

"Yeah…"

Charley and Felix reposition themselves and carry me up the dormitory stairs, and all the way down to Sylvain's room at the end of the hallway. Inside his room is Mercedes, and that Marianne girl. Akumu immediately kicks itself out of the sheathe and emits its red mist. Catherine tries to push it back in, but it refuses to properly seat.

"Just ignore it. Akumu tends to do that from time to time." I say.

Charley and Felix sit me down on an alcohol-soaked cloth stretched out over the floor and pull my black shirt off. The dried crimson plugs attached to the shirt pop out of place and reopen the wounds. Mercedes takes a look at the severity of the wounds, but maintains a calm and reassuring smile, "Hello Artorias."

"Hello."

"Did you enjoy the ball last night?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"I certainly did. You and Honora looked very lovely out there."

"Thank you."

Marianne ties her blue hair back and washes her hands with some alcohol while Mercedes evaluates the level of damage I have taken. Judging by her reaction, it could have been a whole lot worse. Something about her calm demeaner tells me that she was born to do work like this. The fact she isn't scared or freaking out at the sight of blood is sedative enough. My life is in her hands. Yet, she still acknowledges that through her efficient actions and soft simle.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" Mercedes asks as she takes a cloth and soaks it in alcohol.

"Well…I'm in the process of being operated on…" I reply.

A sharp sting causes me to gnash my teeth as Mercedes pats the wounds on my body. Marianne starts on the other side, and the both clean the open wounds. Catherine motions that they need to get out of the room and let the girls do their work. Charley silently protests, but Sylvain states that he should listen. Charley looks at me with heavy eyes, and I nod my head.

Catherine and Sylvain push him out of the room and shuts the door. Outside, Charley is scolding them both for not letting him stay in here with me, and how he thinks I should have been the one they took to Manuela and Honora. Even though he is completely unaware of what Jeralt and Byleth just went through. Especially Jeralt.

The memory of seeing Byleth on the verge of tears as Jeralt shielded him from that woman's attack. My fists clench up, and my chest swells up with anger as I retrace all the steps of what just happened.

As much as I hate to say it, the fact that I was actually getting to fight alongside with both Jeralt and Byleth distracted me. If I wasn't so caught up in the moment, would I have been able to stop Faceless from shooting Byleth? Prevent that one girl from stabbing Jeralt in the back, or been able to avoid that one bastard that blocked my attack?

"Artorias, can you relax please? Tensing up only makes the wounds bleed more." Marianne asks.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I was just thinking about what happened at the chapel." I reply as I take a deep breath.

"Well don't focus on that. You need to think happy thoughts." Mercedes states.

"Sure thing."

"Did you and Honora go to the Goddess tower last night?" Mercedes asks.

"Actually, she couldn't wait that long to confess. So she told me that she loved me in front of the classrooms." I reply.

"How sweet!"

Mercedes and Marianne finish cleansing the wounds. The both of them summon some mana into their hands. They put their palms on my body and let the white magic flow. All the cuts, scrapes and stab wounds glow with a golden aura, and a thin layer of artificial flesh closes everything shut.

"Better?" Mercedes asks.

"Better. Thank you, Mercedes. Thank you, Marianne." I reply.

The both of them ease me up to my feet and lay me down on Sylvain's bed, "We'll be back periodically to check up on you. If there's any uncomfortable pain, or you start bleeding again, let us know." Mercedes says.

I lay on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. Now that the bleeding has stopped, it's alright to reflect on what just happened. One thing that keeps popping up in my mind more than seeing Jeralt getting stabbed is what that girl said about Rhea and Seteth. What did she mean that they had a deeper-seated hatred towards me other than my personal beliefs?

She told me that if I wanted an answer, that I had to meet her outside the village tomorrow. A plan slowly forms within my head. Yet, it's going to be dangerous. Not only that, but it's going to require a lot of effort in order to execute this.

There is a knock at the door, "Artorias? Can I come in?" Charley asks.

"Sure."

The door flies open and Charley quickly approaches me. I sit up and Charley throws his arms around me.

"Hey now. There's no need to get all worked up. I'm going to make it." I say.

"It didn't seem like it at the time." Charley replies.

"Sylvain doesn't have a problem with me staying here. Does he?"

"Nah, he said we'll sleep in the spare bedroom at my house." Charley answers.

"How's Jeralt and Byleth?"

"I'll probably go see them in a moment. I just wanted to make sure you were going to make it first."

"Speaking of which. I have something I need you to do for me."

"What's that?"

"It's a test, and it will be pass or fail."

"Lay it on me."

"Do you still remember how to track?"

"Of course, I do."

"And everything you've learned up until now?"

"Sure do. Why?"

"This test is not only going to test you physically, but emotionally as well."

"Hey! You taught me to be fearless! I'm sure it will be an easy pass for me!" Charley brags.

"I'm sure it will." I sheepishly chuckle. "Meet me here in the morning. I'll give you the details of your test after we go visit Jeralt and Byleth."

"Alright. Well, I'm glad you're alright. You really had me scared there."

Charley smiles and leaves the room. I let out a disappointed sigh and lay back down on the bed. Tomorrow, you are really going to learn what the definition of fear really is…

End of the Ethereal Moon arc…


	28. Chapter 27

The thought of what's going to happen constantly wakes me up. I'll sleep for a small period of time, then a thought will pry open my eyes. What if Charley is the only one that's going to follow through with this plan? Because there is no guarantee anyone from Garreg Mach is even going to back us up.

This is such a bad idea on so many levels, but what happened to Jeralt and Byleth cannot go unanswered. Otherwise, those who attacked Garreg Mach will strike again and again until everyone abandons the sanctuary or dies.

"Artorias? Are you awake?" Charley asks as he knocks on the door.

"Yeah, come in."

The door opens up and Charley enters the room. His cheap outfit resembles what the villagers wear. A white, wool shirt that's been recently stained with some mud and washed out, some burlap pants with self-inflicted holes to represent wear, and a pair of cheap, leather shoes with snapped laces. His pink hair is tucked under the collar of his shirt, and a wide brimmed, farmer's straw hat conceals the top of his head and face. He lays a spare set of clothes on the bed for me to change into.

"You really have been paying attention." I state.

Charley pulls the hat off and scratches the top of his head, "yeah, but it's very uncomfortable. So what's the plan?"

"We're going after those responsible for yesterday's attack, and I think I found a way to their hideout."

"Awesome. Am I following you?"

"Yeah."

"Engagement?"

"I will if it comes down to it, but your mission is to stay hidden and follow." I reply as I put my shirt on.

"I see. You're just going to take me out on a little training exercise. Then when the actual assault comes, that will be my pass or fail test."

"That's one way of looking at it. How's Jeralt and Byleth?"

Charley takes a deep breath and exhales, "Jeralt's in pretty bad shape, and Byleth isn't nessecarrly taking it very well."

"Damn…"

"Honora said the stab wounds were filled with these crystals that were causing internal bleeding, and that her and Manuela were unable to remove all of them because some have splintered off and are growing on his vital organs." Charley says.

I put my pants on and cinch up my boots. That weapon Jeralt was stabbed by was mentioned in that book I found. CEK and his friend Nemesis built several weapons like that for the soldiers without a crest. Daggers like Jeralt was attacked with were forged from a wyvern's tail spike and enchanted with blood arcane.

"I'm guessing it's been offered to Byleth?" I ask.

"Probably. I mean, what's left to offer?"

"Then I guess I'll go pay my respect." I answer.

"Yes Artorias."

"Also, I want you to apologize to Catherine. What you said to her yesterday was uncalled for."

"Forgive me Artorias. I was worried about you, and it blinded me to the severity of what happened to Jeralt."

"All is forgiven. After we finish this mission, I expect you to find Catherine and make things right."

"Yes Artorias."

"I'll lead the way. For now, you need to maintain your distance."

Charley nods and puts his hat back on. I leave the room, and he follows. Charley slows down and puts about forty paces between me and him. For some reason, the entire place seems completely void of life. The grey sky completely blots out any light the sun is giving off, and a drab shadow stretches out as far as the eye can see.

Outside the infirmary room, Byleth is sitting in a chair. His hands are glued to his face, and he's slouched over. The body language of someone who hasn't slept at all and is in a constant state of worry.

"Byleth?"

He wipes his face and buffs his emotionless demeanor as he sits up straight and looks me in the eyes. The image of polished glass reflects off his blue, baggy eyes. I take a seat beside him and try to avoid looking.

"How's the arm?" I ask.  
"The arrowhead went all the way through my shoulder, but it wasn't anything they couldn't fix. What about you?"

"I got patched up. Nothing serious."

As much as I want to ask about Jeralt, there really is no way to bring it up without potentially triggering a problem. Byleth may not want to talk about what's going on with his dad. Socializing during tough times or trying to be empathetic was never my strong suit.

"Artorias?"

"Yes?"

"Does it ever feel like there's something you could have done in a situation that would have changed the outcome?"

"All the time."

"Do you think that if I wouldn't have let my guard down, this could have been avoided?"

"Don't go blaming yourself for something beyond your control. None of us could have seen this coming. That's why our enemies used our desire to help against us."

"By why did they target my father? He never did anything wrong." Byleth states.

I lock my hands together and rest my face against them, "Because he was the Blade Breaker. Whoever planned this knew they couldn't win against him on a level playing ground. That's why they targeted you first because Jeralt would have dropped everything to protect you. Even his guard."

Byleth shakes his head in a disappointed manner, "Such cowardice. Striking from the shadows like that."

"I know, but fights few and far in between are bound to honor. What we are going up against is a threat that's going to require all three nations coming together, but everyone would have to put aside their strife and desires." I reply.

"But how are we going to do that? Each part of Fodlan has their own interests. The nobles aren't going to put down what they want and simply work together."

"Now? Yes, but I truly believe in our house leaders. Dimitri, Edelgard, Claude. All three of them are the future voices of this country. Voices that can be guided by your hands if you are willing to responsibly raise them."

"But how!? I'm not some god or a master teacher! I'm just a mercenary that somehow got a job just because the archbishop saw something in me!"

"And I'd say she didn't misplace her faith either."

"Ah! You're just like everyone else! You think I'm some kind of genius, but I'm not!"

"A master swordsman never thinks, he knows."

"Okay then master swordsman, how do you expect me to unite the three house leaders against this threat?"

"All you need to do is believe. Something big is coming, and it's going to require a man like you to rise to the occasion." I hint at the impending event.

The door opens up and Manuela steps out. Byleth stands up like he is expecting an answer. She gives a fake smile and nods, "He's got a long way to go, but he's stable right now."

Byleth tears the door open and barges in. I shake my head and sigh. A long way to go? That's never a good thing to hear. The actual translation usually means '_we're doing all we can, but chances are, it might not be enough_.' Manuela shuts the door and lowers her head.

"He doesn't have much longer. Does he?" I whisper.

"If you have anything to say, I'd suggest you do it now." Manuela replies as she sits down beside me and pulls out a tobacco holder. She places her roll at the end and lights it up. Manuela takes a long puff and offers it to me.

I pluck the tobacco off and take a small drag. The wonderful taste of gold streak leaf fills my mouth and excites my lungs. It's been over six months since I've had gold streak. As much as I want another hit, I put it back on her tobacco holder and exhale.

"Thanks. I really needed that."

"Don't mention it." Manuela states as she takes another long puff and stares up at the ceiling.

I slowly open the door and head in. Byleth is sitting by Jeralt's bedside and holding his father's hand. I pull up a chair and sit down on the other side. Byleth rests his head on his father's arm and tries to suppress his feelings.

"How you holding up Jeralt?" I ask.

"About like hammered stone." He weakly replies.

It's worse than I thought, and I was already expecting it to be bad. Every time he breathes, this hoarse sounding wheeze leaves his mouth. His eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep, and he looks deathly sick. Droplets of blood spray out of his mouth with a strong, liquid filled cough as Byleth wipes Jeralt's lips with a cloth.

I take a deep breath, clear my head and continue, "I see."

"Artorias? Are you willing to listen? Because my boy won't."

"I'm all ears."

Jeralt coughs again. This time, a small stream of blood and saliva leak out of the corner of his mouth. The pain in my heart grow exponentially as Jeralt nearly chokes on his own words. I place my hand over my mouth and use my index finger to cover the bottom of my nose to prevent sorrowful breathing.

"I don't have much time left…believe it or not, but I've been in this world for a long, and I've seen…unspeakable things…Things that could have been avoided, but weren't because of this system…A system brought on from fear…and a lust for power…" Jeralt gasps.

"But I believe…with all my heart…that my son…is the one that will end this system one day…"

"Then I guess that's something we both agree on." I reply as I ease my finger up to my eye and wipe a bead of water forming at the corner.

"Artorias…will you help my son…?"

"Yes…" I weakly nod.

Strength and hope fills his body as he relaxes and takes a deep breath. He attempts to laugh but gets caught up in a coughing fit. Still, a smile radiating with true happiness spreads across his face as blood streams down his chin. The warm feeling of water rolls down my cheek as I quickly wipe them away with my finger. Regardless of how hard I try to hide it, Jeralt's smile grows even bigger at my sign of emotion.

He looks over at Byleth and touches his face. His thumb removes the tears pouring down Byleth's face as they drip onto Jeralt's hand and blanket.

"I never thought I'd see the day…both my son…and the sword saint… Maybe I will be remembered as a good father…and a brother in arms rather than a title…"

Byleth catches Jeralt's falling hand as he breathes his last. I keep my eyes shut and try to focus on something other than him. However, the only thing that can come to my mind is those conversions I had with Jeralt.

How he straightened me out when it came to raising Charley into a responsible man. That time we were sitting at the riverside after the Remire incident. The feeling of having to do a horrible thing, and the forgiveness Jeralt had despite what had to be done.

Then there was his lame story about how he met his wife Sitri, but regardless of how he told it, that seems to hit me the hardest because despite our differences, he knew exactly how to relate to my life and remind me that I still had a purpose.

The realization of Jeralt finally passing hits Byleth. Nothing but sorrow fills his breath as he buries his head into Jeralt's chest. The sound of soft mourning escapes Byleth's mouth. I close my eyes and turn my back, "Take your time."

I shut the door behind me and look at Manuela. The look on her face is stricken with dread as I nod. She let's out a sigh and hangs her head. As much as I want to be in there to help Byleth get through his grieving, now is not the time. My mission has just started. I clench my fists, take a deep breath and make my way to the front door. Charley is leaned up against a wall with his hat pulled over his face.

"He's gone. Isn't he?"

I remain silent, but give the impression that Charley's guess was right.

"Damn…" Charley states as I walk past him.

Something wraps around my chest and stops me in my track. I look over my shoulder and see that Charley is attempting to hug me from behind. His grip tightens as the hat covering his pink hair floats to the ground.

"I will never forgive you if you make me walk through this life by myself." He whimpers.

"Charley…"

"I mean it."

I spin around and put my arms around him. Charley seemed ready to go when he first came and got me. Now, it appears like he is starting to realize the weight that's fixing to come with this job, and the worst has yet to come.

"No matter what happens, the mission must be carried out. We have to find the hideout, and report back to Rhea without being detected. If I get into trouble, you must not blow your cover. Even if that means you have to return to Rhea by yourself. No ifs, ands, or buts."

I pick Charley's hat up and put it back on his head. He gives me the nod that he's ready to go. I open the front door and leave the building. Charley waits until I'm forty paces out and proceeds to follow.

I make my way through the market place and approach the blacksmith's table. Charley takes a seat on a bench in between two patrolling knights. He stirs up a light conversation to avoid sticking out to the citizens or whoever could be watching.

"Can I help you?" The blacksmith asks.

I take my sword off and lay it on the table, "Could you forge something like this?"

The blacksmith picks up the sheathe and pulls the sword out. He examines the measurements and tries to decipher whether or not it is possible. The only thing he's ever had to make was traditional swords here in Fodlan. Straight edged blades. My sword is not only shorter, but it has a slight curve to it.

"It may take some time, but I believe I can. Iron or Steel?"

"Steel. Folded sixteen times."

"Very well. I'll see what I can do. Give about a month."

"If I am unable to collect the swords, deliver them to Rhea and tell her they are for Artorias' pupil, Charley."

"Sure thing." The man says as he writes down the orders on a sheet of paper.

A thousand thoughts race through my mind as I leave the front gates of Garreg Mach. If something is to happen to me, what's going to happen to Charley? Is he just going to retire? Will he continue to pursue a career with the church? Will anyone even accept him as a pupil since he's been taught a different way?

I don't want to leave him with such a huge burden, but at this point, with students being kidnapped and turned into monsters, and people like Jeralt getting stabbed in broad daylight, what other choice do we really have? If we can find the source of the threat and eliminate it, then it will go away. Until then, I have to play along and face whatever lies in front of me, and that is what I truly fear.

The environment gets significantly colder as the approaching forest creeps upon me. Once I go in, I won't be coming out. The grey canopy from the black leaves above shut out almost all the light, and visibility is somewhat hindered. I continue walking forward and prepare for what's to come.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Something whistles through the air. I dodge back and roll behind a tree. An arrow sticks out of where I was last standing, and a throwing knife glances off the bark of the tree I'm hiding behind. I slightly lean to the right and dodge another arrow directed for my neck.

A silver glint rapidly expands and turns into a line. I grab the limb above me, hoist myself up and hop to the tree across the road. They are trying to gauge what I am capable of doing. That way if I step out of line, they know how to counter my tactics.

I turn around and cross my arms. The impact of someone's forearm locks itself into the gap as my hand clamps shut around someone's wrist. The edge of a knife blade hovers a hair's length from my eye as the tip of an arrowhead nudges itself into the back of my skull.

"Forgive us, but we had to make sure it was you." The red head says.

The arrowhead leaves the back of my head, and the sound of a metallic bow pops. The dampened noise of a string releases the arrow. Pain fills the bottom half of my right leg and forces me to flinch. The girl snaps free from my grasp and kicks me in the chest. I lose my balance and fall off the branch.

Blunt force rattles the bones inside my body as I hit the ground. An orange flash blinds me and everything becomes blurry. Both of the attackers drop down and close in. I roll over and work myself up to my knees. Someone grabs the arrow shaft lodged in my leg and jerks it to the left. The arrow snaps in two, and I am yanked back in between the two attackers. The agony of being dragged around by the arrow's broken shaft nearly paralyzes my entire body with one swift move.

I place my right hand on my forehead and hold out two fingers. Someone's foot stomps the middle of my back and forces me into the ground. The taste of dirt floods my mouth, but I fight through the pain and look back at the entrance of the forest.

Charley is carefully peeking out from behind a distant tree. He's got a dagger ready and is on the verge of charging out. Anger fills his eyes as he lays down and slowly crawls in my direction. One of my attackers has a giant sword strapped to her back. It couldn't have been anyone else other than her.

Faceless raises her leg and stomps down. The cold bite of her boot's leather sole crushes my knuckles and forces my hand to spread open like a melon being smashed by a hammer. I shake my head no and act like I'm reacting from her attack. I glance up and see that Charley is still debating on what to do.

There is no choice. I sit up and toss a weak punch towards the red head. She catches my wrist and slaps me with the back of her free hand. My head hits the ground and Faceless goes back to stomping me. I arch my neck back and look in Charley's direction.

"Easy there. You know what CEK would do to us if we killed him? It'd be way worse than receiving an artificial crest." The red head says as she kneels down beside me. "Had enough?"

I weakly nod no. Charley's eyes fill with sorrow as he crushes the dagger's handle. The boy really wants to do something, but we cannot jeopardize the mission. These two are focused on beating me within a sliver of my life, and it's the perfect cover. As scared as I am, everything is going according to plan.

"That's what I figured." She chuckles as she grabs me by the throat and holds me up. Faceless clasps her hands together and shuffles her feet towards me. Tears roll down Charley's face as he disappears behind a tree.

Stars fill my eyes, and every tooth in my mouth throbs with an itchy, achy feeling as Faceless hits me as hard as she can with a double handed swipe. My head slams into the ground with so much force that my ears ring. The temptation to give into the bliss of sleep tries to overpower me. I force myself to stay awake and try to make out the muffled vocabulary Faceless, and the red head are conversing back and forth about.

The red head and Faceless shake their heads in unison. The red head picks me up by my arms while Faceless carries my legs. The girl locks her hands together and rests them on my chest to prevent me from trying to break free while Faceless drapes my legs over her shoulder and traps my ankles.

Paralysis and weakness slowly shut my mind down, and the urge to succumb is overtaking the will to stay awake. The light disappears from my eyes, and the sway of my body being carried reminds me that this is only the beginning as the blackout takes over…


	29. A Serious Discussion

Something that keeps getting tossed around is the word _original _in the reviews. What exactly do you people want from me? If it's to quit, then you can give that idea up. Have I won your respect? Can I actually do what I want to now? Are you scared that a certain series of events is about to unfurrow simply because I'm sticking too close the original story? Which in my defense, I was told to do so by request.

For the concepts that are original, do I have you scratching your chin, wondering if you're going to get something original? Are you jealous that you went out, did the research and realized that the first half of Senran Kagura Darkness was almost frame for frame similar to the anime? All the way up to Chapter 18 before it got completely original and easily, in my opinion, Alan and Asuka's aftermath arc being the best thing I've ever written in a story.

And are you upset that Arkanum was almost completely original despite one scene I needed from Senran Kagura season 2 in order to launch the entire story? Well, besides the Mirror Queen's fight with Gehrman, and the Moon Presence in her backstory, but that doesn't count.

I swear you Fire Emblem people are the strangest community in the universe. You use nothing but guest accounts and assume I know what your hieroglyphic messaging means in the reviews. Now me coming from three of the most toxic communities (Source: Watchmojo's top ten most toxic communities) on the earth, COD, Soulsborne, and the GTA crowd, I can understand why people refuse to talk to me through personal messaging.

I still play those games, but I'm not going to demonize someone for saying they like Cold War more than Modern Warfare 2, harass someone for enjoying Dark Souls 2 more than Bloodborne, or terrorize some guy or girl trying to make a few pennies in GTA Online with my Oppressor MKII or APC. Call me blasphemous, but I have moved on from that tribalistic mindset.

In fact, when I find out who said _self-insert_ and taunted about me _getting defensive_, I'm going to roast you so hard that everyone's going to wonder whether to leave you in the oven or sell you for charcoal. Yet, we'll call a ceasefire after that and move on through this story as drinking buddies. I'm not getting defensive; I'm getting angry that you people keep hiding from me.

It's almost like I could walk into a room full of you people and say, Dark Souls, and everyone is bailing under tables and jumping out windows in absolute fear of those words. Be civil, bring VIABLE evidence, and I'll be civil to you.

Simply saying there's a problem, and when I ask what the problem is, and you say something silly like "_the opening sequence was lacking decency_." Well, 1: ask 20 different people on what a good beginning is, and you'll get 12 different answers and 2: you need to watch more movies and anime. Afro Samurai, Gladiator, Saving Private Ryan, High School of the Dead, High School DxD, even my beloved season 1 of Senran Kagura all used similar, yet, varied tactics. Just to name a few.

If you are wondering, yes, I have something original planned. I had something original planned ever since Charley was introduced as a character, but I understand people wanted me to earn their respect and prove I could honor and uphold their source material, and not be cruel or usual to certain characters because of their actions in the base game. I had to do it with the Senran Kagura family, so I have to prove myself to the Fire Emblem community as well.

Now let's all think back to the base game and address the elephant in the room. Every ending was absolutely polarizing. You cannot have a conversation with anyone over the different endings unless you believe in the same ending. So let's all clear it off our chests, join hands, take a deep breath and say at the same time that Claude's Golden Deer route was the true ending in the base game.

Now that we've got that out of the way, I can't reveal what I would do, but it wouldn't have anything to do with a particular route. Despite my bias towards Claude, and my little joke earlier about his route being the best, I understand Dimitri and Edelgard deserve equal respect regardless of how everyone feels about them. You'd just have to trust me like the Soulsborne community and Senran Kagura family did with Senran Kagura Darkness' Aftermath arc and Senran Kagura Arkanum.

HOWEVER….You people need to make a decision before the release of chapter 30 or 31. Because I'm so far into part 1, I have to finish this current arc out as a base game route (UH OH, SPOILER ALERT), and if I don't receive the approval to alter a certain event happening real quick, that means I don't have your blessing, and I have no choice but to carry on a base game route rather than the one I want to do, and a base game route would go against the moral of Sword Saint Artorias.


	30. Chapter 28

The dizziness from constant sway fills my head as it tilts to the side. An orange glow passes by my vision and disappears. I have no idea where I am, but I remember what happened before the blackout.

Darkness floods my squinting eyes. I try to limit my movement because I don't know if someone is watching. Something outside this confinement is wrapped around me. Almost like there's another added layer of restraint.

Whoever wants to see me isn't taking any chances. The pain where the arrow hit my leg is gone. Somebody must have healed me while I was unconscious. Chills travel down my spine, and my blood turns to ice at the thought of what lies ahead. I close my eyes and play dead. A burst of fresh air rolls over my smothered head as someone pulls me out of a sack.

My back lays flat against what feels like a wooden table as my arms and legs are stretched out. The sound of a wheel being cranked and chains grinding against each individual link hoist the table up and stand it straight. My weight tries to fly forward, but the metal brackets restraining my ankles and wrists prevent me from collapsing.

"Wake him up." A distorted voice warbles.

A burning sensation soaks through my hair and into the scalp as a liquid hot as fire rolls down my body. The fire solidifies and leaves me feeling cold. Air is pried from of my lungs as I gasp from my body's uncontrollable jerk. The cold dew from my breath emits a thick layer of vapor that fogs up every time I breathe. Faceless sits a metal pail down and steps back. In front of me is that red headed girl from before.

The colorless room is sparsely lit. The only torch is located right next to me. Each one of my fingers have been locked in a series of brackets that force my hands to remain exposed. Knives, hooks, and a variety of torturous looking objects lie organized on a nearby table. The red head walks over to the table.

"You are excused."

Faceless nods her head and exits out of a heavy steel door. Only me, and the red head are left. She picks up a hook stained in fresh blood and casts her gaze at me. I remain calm as she washes the blood off with some rubbing alcohol and sticks it into the torch.

The metal bursts into flames as it turns a bright orange color. She dunks it into a nearby cauldron. Water violently bubbles and spits out a steaming metal chunk. I continue to remain emotionless while trying to stay positive.

"How rude of me. Normally by now, I would have introduced myself." The red head says.

She holds up her left hand and pulls off a fleshy looking ring that's wrapped around her marriage finger. The appearance of the girl melts away, and the form of a much taller woman takes shape. The peach colored pigment from her skin bleeds out of the pores and drips to the floor. Her flesh turns as white as snow while the red hair turns into a shade of orange.

Her Garreg Mach uniform catches ablaze and turns to ash. Underneath the charred visage is a black suit that looks more like a dress. A thick strap covers each breast and wraps over her shoulders. At the base of her neck is a gold imprint of an Agarthan symbol that represents what linage she's from. What really catches my attention though is the black teardrop that glistens underneath her left eye. It's gives the impression she is constantly in a state of anguish.

The ring folds up into the shape of a sphere, and a strange, stringy membrane is attached to it.

The woman holds out her free hand and gives me a gesture to shake her forearm, "The name is Kronya. Oh yes. I forgot. No arms." She taunts.

Kronya paces back and forth in front of me while avoiding the front of my exposed palms. She tosses the sphere up into the air a couple times and tries to think of a way to stir up a conversation.

"I've noticed you have taken a keen interest in this little object here. Would you like to know what it is? I'll give you a hint, it was a gift." Kronya says as she dangles the sphere in front of me by its stringy membrane.

The object sways back and forth as I try to determine what it is. Suddenly, it hits me, and a feeling of deep disgust fills my soul. A passage from CEK's book detailed a story about how him and this guy named Thales forcefully pulled out a Nabatean's eyes in front of his lover. Before he bled to death in her arms.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Kronya asks as she presses the bloodshot eye into my cheek.

"Killing is one thing, but ripping someone's eyes out?"

"Someone? Someone." Kronya smiles. "It's funny that you think Nabateans are something other than animals. It truly was a shame I wasn't allowed to kill that girl. What was her name again? Flayn?"

"Flayn never did anything to you."

"You really are that blind, aren't you?"

"I'm not blind to the fact that the Agarthans are monsters." I state.

"But at least Agarthans admit to the atrocities they've committed."

"You pride yourself in perverted practices, and that is sickening."

"Not nearly as sick as Rhea herself." Kronya states as she works the beard of the hook into my shirt's collar. The fabric tears in two, and the shreds of clothing fall to the ground. "They say that the great and mighty Sothis forgives all, but while I was infiltrating Garreg Mach as that helpless little red head, I found something that would challenge even Sothis' resolve. It's called '_the vault_.'"

"The vault?"

"Oh yes. You see, CEK and Nemesis carved up sweet little Sothis thousands of years ago. Together, they built the Creator's sword. From there, CEK told Nemesis to drink of Sothis' pure and holy blood in order to unlock its true power."

"After destroying Zanado, CEK had Nemesis drink Sothis' blood again in front of the one person that loved Sothis' more than life itself. Sothis' own daughter, Serios. An ultimatum that solidified the eternal hatred between Agarthans and Nabateans. This gutted Serios. So much so that after the Nabateans rose to power, Serios took on the fake name, Rhea."

"From there, she started trying to revive her dead mother by creating life born from her own blood. Beings Serios only saw as experiments and in order to keep her secret, Serios had her advisors hide their bones deep in the holy mausoleum. And when she began to fear that someone might talk, Serios sent them on a mission they wouldn't return from."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Look me in the eyes and say that with a straight face. I know all about your late-night relationship with Serios' advisor. With as much as she hates you, do you think Serios would spare Honora for your sake? If I didn't know any better, I'd say Serios already has the paperwork done. She's just waiting for the moment Honora questions whether being an advisor is more important than a wife." Kronya states.

As much as I try to deny it, everything Kronya has stated seems to be accurate to the entries in CEK's book. Not only that, but Kronya seems to be speaking like she was actually there to witness these events first hand. But I don't want to bring myself to believe it. Rhea is actually Serios herself? And all this time, she's been committing unspeakable acts similar to what was in that book?

What exactly did these people do to one another prior to Nemesis antagonizing Serios? Normally when someone has a grudge, they kill that person and leave. Yet, tearing eyes out, torturing people, even going as far as cutting up a goddess in order to make her into a destructive weapon. This is nothing like what Rhea and Seteth have been preaching.

The memory of Edelgard telling me that crests are responsible for this cruel and brutal world comes to my mind. Now it makes sense. But how did she know about this? All the church preaches is how crests and relics are actually blessings from the goddess.

Something rushes across the room. Kronya doesn't seem to notice it, but it catches my attention. The image of an adolescent Edelgard weeping in the corner of the room causes me to grind my teeth in anger. I understand now. CEK and these bastards are the ones that placed that artificial crest on her.

"Would you also like to know another interesting fact?" Kronya leans in close and places her lips right next to my ear, "Rhea and Seteth hate you because the Crest Eater himself is your grandfather."

"No…"

"Yes!"

"No…that's not true…"

"Why wouldn't you want it to be!? Being a descendant of Crest Eater Kes(CEK) is an absolute honor! An honor only two people have had since the conception of the world! You and your father! As Serios, and the four saints led her people to victory, you, your father, Solon, Thales and Kes will lead us to their downfall!" Kronya cheers.

The tumblers on the door twist, and the metal scrapes across the cold floor. Kronya acknowledges their presence and kneels in honor as two men walk in. One is wearing a mask, while the other has black markings around his right eye.

Wait a minute. The mask, the markings on that one guy's eye. I've encountered these two before. The one with markings around his eye. He was there at Remire. The one that told me to give him CEK's book back. The one that ensnared me in his spiderbite mark. As for the guy with the mask, he's the one that choke slammed me, and then turned me into a pin cushion.

"Is he ready to receive his enlightenment?" The man in the mask asks.

"Yes Lord Thales. What shall we bestow on him?"

"Everything." Thales relies.

"Even the mark reserved only for Thales and Kes?"

"Yes."

"Very well Lord Solon. Is Father Kes aware that his grandson is here?" Kronya replies to the man with the markings around his eye.

"He is. Kes will be pleased once he sees his grandson bears all the marks." Solon answers.

"Any word on Valek?"

"He can't hide forever." Thales replies.

Kronya gathers a couple long nails and purifies them with some alcohol while Solon threads a giant sewing needle with some kind of fiber. Thales picks up a hammer and watches as Kronya presses one of the thin nails into the palm of my right hand.

"You know, if you were a bit more compliant, then we wouldn't have to do this. It's all your fault." Kronya teases.

Thales drives the hammer into the thin nail. The metallic ping, and the sound of flesh being broken echoes off the walls. I clench my teeth and hold my breath. An indescribable pain rattles the bones in my hand and sends pain all throughout my body. The hammer bounces off the nail a second time. The nail breaks the other side of my hand and pins it to this wooden restraint.

Anger overrides my ability to properly think. I scream in rage and try to summon mana. Even if they are standing out of the way of an attack, I'm too angry to care. Crimson spurts out of my right hand as the head of the nail lights up and absorbs the mana.

"Oh, I love it when they struggle!" Kronya says as a stream of fire blasts out of my left hand. Thales steps back and patiently waits. Kronya picks up a slab of wood and places it on my stomach.

Thales drives the hammer into the wooden plank. The impact evenly spreads the energy across my stomach. My lungs freeze, and the ability to draw breath is stifled. The fire stops spewing out of my hand, and the fatigue takes over. I slump down and strain for air.

The rusty taste of blood fills my mouth from how hard I'm biting my lip. Thales continues to hammer away until the nail is buried up to its round head. Kronya takes another nail and presses it into my left hand. The nail burrows through the bone in the hand. Agony from both sides collide within my chest. A huge wave forms from the impact. Pain from the left side travels up to my neck while the right-side eats through all my muscles on its descent towards my toes.

The nails set in my hands are blocking the ability to channel mana and form sigils required to cast spells. However, it feels like the nails are forcing me to produce more mana and is controlling where it flows.

Kronya takes out her knife and points the tip at me, "you know, I always wanted to be a painter when I was a kid! Little did I know that my dream would actually come true, but instead of painting on canvas, it would be on people! What shall I put on him first?"

"Give him his wings." Thales says.

"Very well!"

She steps behind me and flips open a small trapdoor on the table that allows her to reach my shoulder blades. A small prickly feeling rapidly expands into a razor peeling skin back and slicing through. Kronya works the blade in so far that I can feel the tip grazing the surface of the bone. My head snaps side to side from the reaction to the pain while I gnash my teeth to the point they creak.

"The wings are done! Solon?"

"Teeth and talons." Solon says.

Kronya stabs me in the forearm and continues to draw as I silently curse those standing in the room. Being sliced and carved on can't even compare to the pain of being related to Crest Eater Kes. All of those horrible things he did to the Nabateans in the past. The memory of what Jeralt said when we killed that monster back at my house. That girl and those students. Is this what they were forced to endure before being turned into monsters? Was this what Edelgard had to endure?

"Next!" Kronya shouts.

"Spiderbite." Solon states.

My wrist is fileted open, and the knife gouges out a path to each one of my fingers. I look down and see a puddle of red pooling at my feet. My mind slips, and an image of Charley forms within the liquid.

"_I'll never forgive you if you make me walk through this life alone."_ The reflection says. Right beside him, the outline of Byleth forms, _"Even if Edelgard pulled you out of my class, that wouldn't change the fact you're still my student."_

Strength from seeing those two fills my body and helps nullify some of the agony I'm in. I clench my fist and try to breath normally. Hope fills my heart as I stare directly at Thales' mask.

"_When faced with an ill-tempered opponent, do everything you can to make him mad."_ Mother's voice echoes through my head.

The memory of when she would slap the back of my head when I messed up during our duels come back. When she successfully made me mad, she was able to observe the new techniques I'd learned because my anger would push me into using something I should have kept hidden until the proper time.

"Nine tails? Or eight?" Kronya asks she circles behind me and presses her knife into my lower back.

"Kes has eight, and Valek has seven. I think it'd be fitting if he had nine." Solon states as he begins stitching my open wounds shut with his sewing needle.

"The more the merrier!" Kronya says as she jabs her knife into my back and cuts up.

The sudden burst of pain causes me to flinch, but it isn't enough to make me break eye contact with Thales. Even if I could break out right now, there's no way I could take him on as of now. If he's as old as time itself, then that's why he was able to easily overpower me.

However, I do have an idea. If Kes wants me alive, then that means they can't do anything that will fatally wound me. Thales may have the same amount of authority as Kes, but if Kes is credited with as much as I've read about, I doubt Thales would want to challenge Kes on anything. Considering it could divide their forces.

"Hey Kronya. Is it true you guys kidnapped Flayn and all those kids at Garreg Mach?" I sputter.

"We sure did!"

"Let me guess, you were also responsible for what happened at Remire?"

"That was actually the idea of one of our subordinates. We offered her revenge against the church in exchange for her life. She was the one that helped kidnap Flayn so we could develop a disease from the crest in her blood."

"Her blood?"

"Oh come on Artorias. How stupid can you be? The green hair? Flayn is actually the saint Cethleann. And Seteth? He's actually Cichol. The same saints that fought along Serios' side."

"Kronya. You need to keep quiet." Thales says.

"Why? He needs to know what, and who he will be killing in the future. That is…when I finally break his spirit." She teases with a sadistic grin.

"So the crest in her blood was used to infect the village in Remire as well as make the monsters that attacked Garreg Mach?" I ask.

"Yup."

"That's what I figured. Leave it to men thousands of years old wanting to kidnap little boys and girls." I arrogantly chuckle while continuing my glare at Thales.

"You better get that look off your face boy." Thales states.

"Why? You feeling guilty? Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Thales makes a small cut on his thumb and picks up that wooden board he smacked me with earlier. A red string bursts out of the wound and wraps around his arm. Several claw-like appendages form over his hand as he slowly approaches me.

"Tell me kind sir. Do you and grandpa Kes like them young?"

He puts the board on my stomach and winds up like he's about to deliver a strike. Something tells me that this is going to hurt a lot worse than the hammer. In fact, I could probably take a raw strike from the hammer, and it wouldn't hurt half as much as this.

"Girl?"

Thales growls under his breath. He takes the wooden plank off my stomach and presses it up against my face. The smell of oak fills my nose while the sticky feeling of sap glues itself to my cheek. Kronya stands off to the side and watches with glee while Solon continues to patch the wounds up.

"I bet it was a boy."

The wood plank snaps in half, and Thales' solidified hand connects with my face. Chunks of splintered wood pierce through my cheek as the strength of his hand overtakes me. The veins in my eyes glow yellow as everything goes black. Blood and saliva trickle out of my mouth as I cough and try to stop the impending blackout.

"That's how…you use…the claw attack…" I think to myself.

Escape doesn't seem likely. My hands have been temporarily crippled, there's no way I can use magic, I have no idea where in Fodlan I'm at, and I'm on the verge of passing out. However, I may have something that can get me out of this predicament. The odds are slim, but if I can break free and sabotage any equipment, I'll take it. A sensual feeling of bliss paralyzes my body, and the strength that was holding me up disappears…


	31. Chapter 29

The violent throbbing all over my body slowly brings me to my senses. I wheeze and spit out a wad of rusty tasting crimson. It doesn't feel like blood is trickling out of the wounds anymore. They must have healed me while I was passed out. Even though it got me hit, I don't regret what I said to Thales. It must have really struck a nerve because he was dumb enough to reveal how to use that claw attack.

Despite being restrained, I take a deep breath and try to summon a sigil anyway. The stitches from where Kronya was carving into me glow and dispel the flow of mana.

These stitches must be made out of some kind of fabric that suppresses mana because it only gets so far before coming to a stop. Regardless, curiosity is getting the better of me. The way Thales solidified that blood and made a giant claw. It's almost identical of a wyvern's fist when it was clenched. I look over my right shoulder and examine the tiny part of the carving that is exposed.

It's been sealed shut with white magic, but the stitches that jut out are still causing a minuscule amount of bleeding. It hasn't scabbed over yet, so maybe. Just maybe. I take a deep breath and channel the mana to my shoulder. The stitches glow and absorb a majority of the flow, but a small portion causes the blood to form a tiny air bubble.

What looks like a whip pops the bubble and attempts to slice through the stitches. I take a deep breath and focus. The red whip manages to break through the flesh and sever one of the stitches on my back. Despite feeling like no progress has been made, more mana can circulate freely.

A couple more stitches bust, and the reservoir of trapped mana travels a lot more freely throughout the body. The tumblers on the door rotate. I relax and slump down.

"Good morning Artorias! I hope you are well rested for the big day today!" Kroyna says.

Her footsteps echo off the walls as I continue to act like I didn't hear her. "A little drowsy, are we?" Kronya's cold fingers dig into my face and forcefully pick my head up. I remain silent and try to give the impression that she has almost broken my spirit. The glazed look in Kronya's eyes and lust to cause pain grows exponentially.

"You're a tough one! I'll give you that! But just like a piece of steel, it will eventually bend and take shape! You will emerge a much better person once you have truly accepted your fate, but until then, you need a bit more convincing!" Kronya says as she slams my head back.

Behind her is Thales and Solon. They really aren't taking any chances. If it was just Kronya, I think I could have overcome her and escaped once she released me, but Thales was one step ahead. Even though it appears they are buying the act of being on the verge of a broken spirit, they want to ensure that I won't question. If anything, they are about to do something else to me.

Kronya pulls the nails out of my hands. The holes that were in my palms close and leave nothing but a small, achy feeling. She releases the other restraints, and I fall forward. My body bounces off the waterlogged floor. The puddle of red water splashes on me and causes my core to freeze up. It's so cold. We have to be somewhere up north because the winter starts there a month early. Then it proceeds to make its way to Garreg Mach and eventually Adrestia.

Kronya and Solon cut their hands at the same time and summon a series of tentacles that sprout from their fingertips. That must be the spider bite mark. Both Solon and Kronya's tentacles wrap around my body and ensnare my arms. Kronya binds my fingers and cups my hands into one another to prevent me from picking something up on the way out.

"Shall we string him up in front of everyone?" Solon asks.

"Yes." Thales replies.

"Out of all the people here, you're the guest of honor! How does it feel?" Kronya says in a mocking voice.

As mad as it makes me, I keep my mouth shut. The tentacles tighten around my chest and cause me to lock up. The ability to breathe is stifled, and it's pushing me to the verge of passing out again. I try to clench my muscles to create a small opening, but the moment I expand and retract, the tentacles flex and return to the normal position. My face feels flush while the circulation of blood is almost cut off.

"I said how does it feel?" Kronya scowls.

Solon hits Kronya in the back of the head and she lets up. I let out a small gasp and attempt to regain the strength to breathe. "Idiot! You're going to kill him!"

"And the moment he stops breathing, you stop breathing." Thales states.

"Hmph. You two are no fun. No fun whatsoever." Kronya scoffs.

Thales leads the way while Solon and Kronya follow. The slack between me and them is taken up. I helplessly roll across the ground and catch every pebble on the way out of the door. Icicles formed from dripping water dangle from the ceiling while beads of partially frozen condensation line the walls.

Multiple cells packed with boys and girls partially dressed in filthy, torn, Garreg Mach uniforms rush to the bars and try to see what's going on. They must be the students Faceless and Skullface kidnapped that night Flayn went missing. I must have been extremely special because my holding cell was the only one that was completely enclosed.

Cries, pleas and taunts are directed towards Solon, Thales and Kronya as they drag me across the floor. While praises for me to not give up and to stay strong come from all directions. These people don't even know who I am, but the fact they are doing this for me must mean they were doing it for everyone else who was dragged out of their cell. As much as I want to resist, I'm afraid Thales or Solon will take it out on these kids sooner rather than later if I step out of line.

"Going up!" Kronya says as they start ascending a stairwell.

I lift my head as they drag me up. The rugged feel, and the constant jarring from the steps rattle everything within me. Thales opens the door at the top, and a relentless howl rips it out of his hand. A blast of snowy air, and the relentless screech of a cold, Fodlan wind gushes through. Solon and Kronya immediately cover their faces with their arms while the white cascade eats me alive.

The thick, white blanket completely swallows my body. It feels like someone is forcefully holding me underwater. My head bursts out from below as I try to regain the ability to breathe again. As far as the eye can see, the approaching winter has constructed a thick, white wall. Soldiers dressed in armor are gathered around campfires while some are seeking shelter inside their tents. Yet, the people in sight are wearing masks rather than actual helmets.

One of them catches on to me being dragged through the snow. He tells everyone at his campsite, and they proceed to fan out. The sounds of a small battalion cheer and whistle as they form a line behind me. Cheers dedicated to Kes and Thales scream out while derogatory statements about Sothis and Serios fill the blistered air at the same time. Faceless catches up and falls in with the group behind me.

"Make one pass. Then we'll set him straight." Thales says.

The men and women sing Kes' praises and boldly worship Thales as they drag me by a wooden stage that's just been constructed. A table similar to the one I was strapped to earlier sets in between two green torches that are glowing with ethereal sap. I've already received the markings. What more are they possibly going to do?

The stage disappears behind the white fog and now we are in a different part of the camp. A series of huge, metal cages form a small alley. Everyone funnels into the narrow path. Blood curdling screams and evil hisses silence the wind for a brief moment.

Various types of monsters ranging from black beasts to the monsters I saw back at the old chapel shake their cages and roar with frenzied excitement from the sight of us. Human bones litter the area around the cages.

"You see? Even the nightmares sing the praises of your name." Kronya says.

If anything, these things are probably overjoyed at the slight possibility of being fed. The idea that some of these kids were used as food for these things make me sick. I continue to ask myself how someone could resort to doing something so heinous. Especially people who have done nothing wrong. To think death is actually the lucky way to go.

In all the years I've traveled Fodlan, I've seen some truly awful things, but nothing on this level. Just when I thought the country couldn't get any worse, someone somehow springs back up and reminds me that what I see as reality is just an illusion, and there really is no end to people's cruelty and evil.

They drag me up the stage and to the table. Solon and Kronya fasten the restraints and step to the side. Thales holds up his hands, and the raging crowd slowly subsides to subtle whispers and occasional hand gestures.

"Fellow Agarthans, Behold. The grandson of the Crest Eater himself!" Thales shouts as he gives a welcoming gesture to me. The people go into a frenzy and chant. Thales closes his fist, and the crowd quietens down.

"For thousands of years, we have suffered by the hands of Sothis, the goddess of the Nabateans. The goddess they speak so highly of. The same goddess that told us to live on our knees."

The crowd jeers and boos. "The same goddess that burned Kes' wife alive when he tried to negotiate peace. The goddess that tried to exterminate us, but unlike the goddess herself, we are still here!"

"Death to the Nabateans!" One man screams.

"Remember those that were unjustly killed!" Someone else yells.

Thales holds up his hand again, and the rowdy crowd calms down, "The time of the Nabateans is at its end, because we now possess their very downfall. The Sword Saint himself…ARTORIAS!"

I can't tell if Thales is intentionally building the crowd up just to knock them down, but the moment they get excited, he silences them. Either way, these people seem determined on making me one of their pawns.

Thales said Kes' wife was burned alive by Sothis, and this was something Kes mentioned in his book. He was trying to stop an impending war because some of the Agarthan leaders massacred a town of Nabateans for no reason. Kes assured Sothis that those guilty would be executed, but with such a heinous act, she ignored his plea and took matters into her own hands.

As a result, Kes' wife sacrificed her life to save their son by shielding him from Sothis' wrath. Could it just be propaganda Thales is manipulating, or was this something else Rhea has been trying to hide? Either way, both sides, the Nabateans and Agarthans are monsters. One side openly revels in their atrocities while one attempts to hide theirs.

"This boy has received all of his marks, BUT…" Thales suddenly bursts out. The crowd goes silent. Thales slowly approaches me and presses his thumb into my face. "I feel as if Kes' grandson is having second thoughts. You see, the other day, I had to set him straight. Do you know why?"

"Why!?" The crowd yells all at once.

"Because he was working with Garreg Mach's top knight, Jeralt, but it doesn't end there! According to Solon, he seems to be in pretty good with Garreg Mach's archbishop! Daughter of the Nabatean goddess, Serios!"

"BOOOOOO!" Half the crowd yells as they scoop up balls of snow and hurl them at me while others beg and plea that I surrender to their beliefs. Solid white pelts me all over the body and face.

"Don't tell me you were helping that animal, Serios!?" A woman pleas.

"Death to Cichol and his kid!" Another man shouts.

"Finish what your father couldn't!" Kronya yells.

The crowd suddenly agrees on Kronya's statement about my father. "Kill, kill, kill, kill..."

What do you want?" Thales asks.

"To finish what Valek couldn't!"

"And what would that be?"

"To kill Cichol and Cethleann!"

"Such a coward! Only killing Cichol's wife! A real man would have finished the job!" Solon states.

Thales grabs me by my face and forces me to look into the eyes of his mask, "You hear that son? Looks like the crowd has spoken. Tell me, are you a man, or are you Valek?"

"Whatever you despise more." I boast.

"Such cowardice, but you know what they say, like father, like son."

Thales strikes me in the gut. My stomach churns from within and something in my throat pops. A yellow looking mucus mixed with the blood in my mouth gushes out uncontrollably. I try to regain control, but I hiccup and more spills out. The combination of the constant beating, and the thought of these people committing these sick acts overcomes me. I gag and try to catch my breath.

"Just the thought made him throw up! Enlighten him some more! Make Kes' grandson change his mind!" The crowd yells.

Thales grabs me by my hair and straightens me out. He places his fist on my stomach again and gives a couple practice swings. His strikes are so precise that they are able to invoke a lot of pain but prevent me from dying or passing out. I brace myself as Thales prepares to throw another punch.

"LET HIM GO!" A familiar voice shouts from the distance.

My eyes burst open. About twenty paces behind the crowd stands a lone figure. The fear in my heart amplifies as it appears he's the only one that has come. The wind tosses his pink hair through the air. Giving it the appearance of a pink flame. He's not wearing his Faerghus armor, but an overcoat lined with grey wolf fur. Nor does he have his hammer, but he is holding a sheathed longsword in his left hand.

"Who is that?" Thales asks.

"I think it's a female student from Garreg Mach." Solon replies.

"Oh, I know who it is! It's the femboy Artorias trains! How sweet! He came all this way just to die!" Kronya says. "A purse of gold for whoever can bring him to me alive!"

"One purse!? Is that all I'm worth to you!?" Charley shouts back as he pulls something out of his pocket. I don't know what it is, but he sticks something that looks like a coin in his mouth and bites down.

The crowd spreads out and two men make their way towards Charley. He makes a quick observation and drops the sword. Charley takes a step forward and stands in between the two looking to attack.

"You see? He's already given up!" Kronya says.

Charley puts his hands on the back of his neck and fluffs out his hair with a huge motion. Two men grab their faces and fall to the ground, blood gushing out of the white masks. A throwing dagger is sticking out their eyes. The sudden shock causes everyone to interoperate what just happened.

Charley rushes forward, grabs an arrow out of someone's thigh quiver and stabs it through the person's neck. He spins around and grabs a hold of a man holding an axe. He strips the dagger out of his sheathe, stabs him in the throat and kicks him into a small crowd. The dead body causes a group of people to stumble as Charley throws his dagger and fatally strikes someone else in the throat.

"Well don't stand around! Get him!" Solon yells.

Everyone comes to the realization of what is happening and acts upon Charley's sudden massacre. Charley catches an incoming spear and jerks the weapon up. The shaft hits his attacker in the face. Charley spins the spear around, stabs him and uses his body to shield himself from two incoming arrows.

"We're coming Artorias!" Charley yells.

Two figures raise out from under the snow with arched bows. The drawstrings pop and two enemy archers hit the ground. Claude wipes the snow out of his face and redraws his bow as Felix ditches his and grabs the sword Charley dropped. Felix charges forward and backstabs a man trying to grab Charley.

The sound of chain links rip through the atmosphere, and a unique sword tip impales another archer taking aim at Felix. Byleth rushes out from behind the white wall of snow and charges towards the group. An axe and three spears burst through the fog and strike down four men charging Byleth at once.

Following directly behind Byleth is Dimitri, Edelgard, Sylvain and Leonie. Edelgard places her foot on the chest of the man she just killed and yanks her axe out of his skull. The absolute chaos has everyone in disarray. Thales and Solon have no idea what to do, and Kroyna is speechless.

He did it. Charley actually did it. Not only that, but Byleth managed to bring the three house leaders together. Whether it was for me, or revenge for Jeralt is beside the point. It is possible for all three nations to come together for a common goal.

I remember that I can actually summon some mana to my shoulder. As everyone stares on, I pop a couple more stitches in my back. Even though it can't go towards my hand yet, it feels like mana can freely flow to my right shoulder.

Charley, Leonie, Sylvain and Felix are making progress towards the stage. In fact, they are probably going to be the first ones up. Edelgard deflects an incoming attack from an axe and ducks. Dimitri lunges his spear over Edelgard and stabs the staggered man. An arrow flies through the air and strikes a man trying to rush Dimitri.

"Alright! That does it!" Thales shouts as he summons some mana into his hands.

Several gold chains shoot down from above and snag a hold of his hand. I look to my left, and my heart melts. Honora is absolutely enraged as she stretches her spell and attempts to tear Thales' arm off. Seteth is standing by Honora's side with a spear. Thales' attitude changes at the very sight of them.

Thales snaps the golden chains wrapped around his arm and takes off towards Seteth and Honora. Honora prepares another spell as Seteth rushes out and stops him. Thales' fist glances off Seteth's spear, and the both of them circle around and attempt to find an appropriate opening. Solon steps off stage and runs directly at Honora.

My attention swaps back to what's going on out front. Dimitri and Edelgard are the closest with Charley right behind their heels. Dimitri grabs Edelgard's arm, and the both of them stop. Charley slides forward and leans all the way back. A massive silver glint glides over Charley as he rolls forward and regains his footing.

"You missed!" Charley chortles.

Faceless clenches her massive sword and silently scowls for her failure to land the blow. She places the sword behind her back. The head of Dimitri's spear stabs into the massive metal sword and locks itself in place.

Faceless crouches and unleashes a huge spin attack. Dimitri pulls the spear back, stabs the ground and prevents the sword from hitting him and Edelgard. Faceless leaps back and rests her blade over her shoulder while Edelgard and Dimitri prepare to fight her together.

"Die bitch!" Charley yells as he lunges a bloody sword at Kronya.

She deflects the incoming blow and delivers a spin kick. Charley jumps back and skids across the frozen wood platform. Kronya flips her knife upside down and hooks both Leonie and Sylvain's attack. She jumps over an incoming thrust attack from Felix and engages all four of them at the same time.

"I'm going to make all of you pay for Jeralt's death!" Leonie yells.

"Such a shame you weren't there to watch him die!" Kronya yells as she jumps up into the air and split kicks. The attack hits Leonie and Sylvain at the same time and knocks them off the stage.

Felix closes in and helps Charley take Kronya on. She split kicks again and hits the blade of Felix's sword. Felix realizes he can't stop before the stairs edge, so he balls up and safely rolls down. As Kronya descends, her legs catch Charley's neck. She flips backward and entangles him. Kronya snags his ankles and locks them under her arms. The front half of her body is positioned on his chest. Charley tries to fight back, but Kronya harasses him and traps his hands under her knees.

"Get off him!" Leonie screams.

"Oh, is this the girl I saw you kissing on the night of the ball? Well I'll be sure to bury you together after this is over!" She leans down and examines Charley's puffy cheeks. "What's the matter? Dreadful of your final words? I want to hear the agony in your voice before you die, so spit it out!"

A brown colored stream of spit blasts out of Charley's mouth and covers the front of Kroyna's face. She grabs her eyes and falls off. The scent of chewed tobacco fills my nose and causes me to shiver. Just the thought of having that on my face makes me nauseous. She wretches and gags as she tries to wipe the sticky, saliva off. Charley pulls a plug out of his mouth and violently shakes out of a sense of relief.

"Wow. Tobacco is super gross. Okay now. Here we go…" Charley says as makes his way to me.

"I'm here for you Artorias!" Charley frees my right hand.

"It's not over yet! Incoming!" I yell as Kronya tries to stab Charley. I catch her wrist and throw her off balance. She staggers back and slips on a patch of ice. Kronya's weight slips out from under her, and she hits the wood with so much force that it rattles the entire platform.

Leonie and Sylvain hoist themselves up to the stage while Felix rushes back up. Felix and Sylvain assist Charley as they break my restraints apart. Leonie spins her spear around and knocks Kronya off balance again. As she rolls back, her hand scoops up some snow. Leonie charges forward and Kroyna flings the snow into Leonie's face.

"Leonie!" Charley yells.

"Get down!" I shout as I summon mana into my shoulder. The blood in my body tears through the last stitch and bursts out. Kroyna's knife bounces off the solidified wing, but she quickly recovers and tries to stab from underneath.

With no input, the bloody wing blocks the next attack. It's almost like the blood has a mind of its own. Something I don't have to control and is reacting from what I'm observing. If I imagine it happening, then the wing will perform the action.

Sylvain jumps in and lunges his spear at Kronya from the safety of my wing while Leonie wipes her eyes. Charley and Felix break the last restraint wrapped around my ankle. I lunge forward and catch Kronya's wrist. She spins around and her foot slams into the blood wing.

My wing folds across my body and unleashes a vicious backhand that slaps her off stage. Red fragments of solid blood scatter across the wooden platform as the wing snaps in two. The remaining half of the wing turns back into liquid as my shoulder reabsorbs it.

"I hope that hurt!" I yell as we make our way off stage.

"Where'd you learn that!?" Charley cheers.

"You don't want to know!" I reply.

"Whatever it was, it came in handy!" Felix shouts.

Faceless crosses her sword with Dimitri's spear and quickly retreats the moment Edelgard tries to hit her with the axe. Faceless realizes that she isn't making any progress against them and retreats beyond the white wall of snow. Seteth and Honora continue their fight with Thales. However, I don't know where Solon is. Maybe he turned coward and ran away like Faceless just did.

"The rest of the army is at the base of the mountain!" Byleth shouts.

"In other words, move your asses!" Charley states.

Byleth's face seeps with shock. Intense pain enters my right shoulder and tears through to the other side. A series of red strings pierce through my skin. I try to press onward, but something stops me in my tracks. Charley and the others turn around and notice I'm in trouble. The red string quickly tie a knot that snags a hold of my body. My feet slip out from under me as a huge tug jerks me onto my back. The strings hiss like a fishing rod, and I slide across the snowy ground.

"Artorias!" Byleth and Charley shout at the same time.

I reach out and try to grab a hold of anything that might bring me to a stop. The blood oozing out of my shoulder tries to form another wing, but it feels like the way the marking has been pierced is preventing the blood from taking shape. I reach out and grab ahold of an Agarthan corpse. My descent backward comes to an abrupt stop.

"Resisting is only going to make me angry." Solon states as he walks in the opposite direction.

Claude notches a bow and takes aim. He closes his left eye and squints. The metal arrow grinds against his silver bow as he releases the drawstring. A red wing takes form and smashes the incoming metal arrow into pieces.

"Let him go you son of a bitch!" Charley yells.

Byleth and everyone else rush in my direction to try and assist. Solon gives a quick yank. Pain overrides my grip, and he drags me closer and closer to him. I reach out again and grab another body. It's clear Solon is going to win. Even if I resist. However, I have an idea since Solon can't see over his shoulder.

I reach over a dead body and snag a hold of a sheathed knife. Solon yanks again. The sound of leather snapping in two rings out as the knife drags a bloody belt across the snow. I funnel all the mana into my right arm. The stitches slowly rise up and pop one by one. I ram the knife into my arm and cut the stitches the mana and blood are unable to break.

All the markings on my right arm fill up with blood and feel as if they are ready to be used. I quit resisting and Solon drags me directly in front of him. The wing blocking his view slowly retracts into his back. I tuck the knife up against my forearm and keep it out of sight.

Behind Solon is a steep hill. So steep that it can almost be a straight drop off. Down below is a frozen valley with a massive pool of solid blue. He hoists me up and gets me into a headlock.

"Let him go!" Charley screams.

"You don't have anywhere left to run." Dimitri states as everyone takes a step forward.

Solon takes a step back and hides his head behind mine. Claude and Felix have their bows notched, but neither of them are willing to release. With as skilled as Claude is, he seems to know that even with a curved shot, the smallest movement could mean the difference between hitting Solon, or me. As of now, the current situation is at a stalemate.

"You know, Kes and I expected so much more out of you Edelgard. How disappointing." Solon taunts.

"Well life's full of disappointments, and the longer you hide behind Artorias, the more you piss me off." Edelgard states.

Charley tries to take initiative and move forward, but Byleth puts his arm out and pushes Charley back behind him. Sylvain and Leonie whisper to him. Charley swears under his voice but acknowledges that they are right.

"It's just one boy. One boy! A boy that can change Fodlan's future for the better if he comes with me!" Solon says.

"I know what your idea of a better future is, and at one time, I was stupid enough to buy what you were selling, but no more." Edelgard replies.

Solon swings me around and intentionally puts pressure on my neck to get me to react, "Ah Edelgard! You're so naïve! Do you have any idea what Rhea is going to do to him once he gets back to Garreg Mach? When I'm gone, she'll just find another monster! She has to! Because she has to justify what she's done!"

"Don't listen to him Edelgard! He's trying to get into your head! I'll be fine!" I state with a clenched mouth.

"Fine? How?" Solon questions.

"Nothing a trip to another country can't fix if Rhea really is that dumb."

"So narrow minded. Just like your father…"

I can feel his grip around my throat relaxing. Solon is preparing to do something extremely stupid. I ready the knife and press the tip up against his black garb.

"You know what, Edelgard. Take the boy. He's all yours."

I ram the knife into Solon's rib cage the moment he tries to summon his spiderbite mark. He squalls in pain and flinches as he releases me.

"DON'T SHOOT!" Byleth shouts.

Blood rushes to the palm of my right hand as several strings erupt from the freshly irritated wound. The red forms a claw, and I slam my fist into Solon's face. He staggers back and slips. His body disappears over the edge, and he starts his long descent down. My body spins too far, and I go over the edge with him.

"ARTORIAS!" Charley screams.

The blood in my body sprouts out of my shoulder. Solid red wraps all around me as I roll helplessly down the hill. Several stitches on my lower back tear and these tail-like appendages burst out of the red armor and dig into the ground to slow the rapid descent.

The combination of the white ground, the grey distance, a makeshift set of red armor, and the constant spinning washes my sense of balance away and causes everything to distort into a twisted image. My eyes get caught up in the broken illusion, and I lose myself.

Everything comes to a stop as the red plating around my body liquifies and seeps back into the markings. The entire world is spinning out of control despite coming to a complete stop. Laying a few paces away from me is a black blob. Between us is a narrow path stained with red droplets. The blob takes shape as it slumps to its feet and wobbles around.

I roll over onto my stomach and crawl in the opposite direction. My knees lock up when I can get them under myself, and I collapse. Trying to stand up is no use. What little strength I had left was probably used to protect me from a serious injury on the way down. The only thing left to do is hope I can get away.

The sound of a shocked chuckle erupts behind me, and several footsteps cause the ice below to crackle and pop. A massive weight slams right in the middle of my back and pins me to the ground for a brief moment. The impact crushes my lungs and causes me to violently wheeze for air.

"You know, Kes is a patient man. If you just come with me, all will be forgiven."

I collect myself and continue to weakly crawl away.

"That's what I figured. I'd expect nothing less from Valek's little bitch of a son."

Solon rears his leg back and strains himself. His foot hooks me right in the gut with so much force that it lifts me up off the ground. My head slams into the ice, and the last of the air blasts out of my mouth. I cough and gasp as the amount of air I'm losing exceeds what my chest is taking in. My throat closes up and everything within is fading away. Solon howls in pain as the sound of flesh being ripped open hits my ears.

"Get away from him!" I hear.

A chilly crimson stream rolls over my blurred vision as I see Byleth repelling down. He is using the links of his sword to scale down the hill. Byleth reaches the bottom and reassembles his sword.

"I tried to be fair with him, but I'm tired of playing games with the boy." Solon says.

"Don't!" Byleth screams.

A sharp pain hits me in the lower back. My body flinches from the incoming blow, but the mild pain only adds to the bliss of wanting to pass out. Solon kicks me as hard as he can and sends me rolling over to Byleth. The handle of the knife snaps off and wedges the iron blade further into my back. He collapses to his knees and scoops my body up in his arms.

"Artorias! I didn't come all this way to watch you die!"

I try to say something, but my constricted throat is barely allowing me to breathe. The strength vanishes and all my muscles want to shut down.

"Stupid kid." Solon says as he hobbles away.

Byleth fights with everything he has, but several tears break through his closed eyes. Even though I am in great pain, it feels like I'm not about to die for some reason. I'm immobilized, but the strength is slowly coming back. It feels like receiving a weak healing spell that beginning healers cast in order to keep someone alive until the expert arrives.

A strange green light emits from Byleth's body as his sorrow turns into rage. A huge shadow is hovering above us. It looks like a wyvern of some kind, yet, my obstructed vision is preventing me from seeing that far.

"Why… Why…" Byleth mumbles.

The green aura around him grows exponentially, and the shadow above gets bigger. His lips recede as the length of his teeth expand. They take on the appearance of a saw as the crest on his arm glows. His emerald colored eyes rip open and black slits mark the middle of his pupil. Almost like that of a snake.

"YOU BASTARD!" Byleth screams as he sits me down and steps away.

The shadow from above follows Byleth. The ground shakes and something massive bursts through the ice below. I can't see what it truly is, but it has horns, and looks pissed. The thing opens its mouth and slams shut around Byleth's body. Only leaving his head exposed. His green hair changes to a lighter shade as he grinds his interlocking teeth. The thing that is trying to eat Byleth clings to his body and forms a unique set of armor.

The current event of Byleth's transformation causes Solon to snap back around. Fear fills his eyes so much that his face sags with absolute terror.

"No…No! How is it possible!?" Solon pleas with himself.

I have no idea what is even going on right now, but don't care about that, or if I die now. As long as I can watch this son of a bitch die, I can pass happy. The hood and chest plate on Byleth's armor expands and forms some kind of mouth. It slams shut around his head and gives him an appears similar to a wyvern. Except I'd rather stare down a wyvern than be met with that face.

"Your will and mine are now as one! Both sides are revealed to you and you alone!" A female voice states.

Byleth lunges forward and takes off in a full sprint. He's running so fast that his feet are coming off the ground. Solon forms a magic spell and unleashes a barrage of frozen ice. Byleth leaps over the incoming spell and dives directly towards Solon. A red wing bursts out of Solon's back, and the two engage.

Solon flicks his wrist and deploys his spidersbite marking. Byleth flips over the incoming tentacles and counter attacks. Solon raises his hand and catches the sword with his bare hands. The two relentlessly push against one another. Solon intentionally lets Byleth forward to try and force him to falter, but Byleth regains his posture and breaks free from the lockup.

Solon holds his hand up again to stop the blow. At the last second, Byleth changes the direction of the swipe and hits Solon's wrist. The falling snow absorbs the crimson dots flying through the air. White snowflakes stained red gently float through the air as Solon tries to come to terms of what just happened.

The slow, painful realization combined with the absolute dread and agony on his face causes the corners of my mouth to raise with glee. I let out a small chuckle as Byleth rams the tip of his creator's sword through his chest. Red mists out of Solon's mouth as Byleth repositions himself and slams him onto the ice.

He rips his sword out and rams it down again. This time, the green blade stabs Solon right between the eyes. The ice below cracks from the impact as it forces Solon's body through the hole. I swipe some snow out of the way and look underneath the ice. Solon's lifeless body catches the underwater current, and he floats right by.

"You're right. A real man would have finished a job." I state.

The armor that's wrapped around Byleth falls off and turns to ash as he struggles to place his steps. I don't know what he just did, but it must have him winded. Byleth collapses to his knees and slowly crawls by my side. I lay flat on my back and stare up at the grey sky. A sense of joy takes over me and laughter overpowers me.

"What's so funny?" Byleth asks with a smile.

"That little display back there. The son of a bitch didn't even stand a chance." I chuckle. "Speaking of which, how did you do that?"

Byleth shakes his head and gasps, "I don't know, but the moment that dagger broke your skin, this series of events played out in my head. It was almost like…this little girl named Sothis told me enough was enough."

I continue to hysterically laugh as the snow piles up on our bodies, "I have no idea what you are talking about, but it sounds interesting."

"Well maybe if we weren't so exhausted, it might actually make more sense." The both of us laugh.

"Artorias!" Charley screams as he makes his way down the incline.

"We're alive!" I shout.

"He's alive!? He's alive! Let me through! Let me through!" Honora shouts as she tries to get down as quickly as possible. "Artorias! You idiot!" Honora sobs as she reaches the ground.

"Sounds like you're in big trouble." Byleth chuckles.

"Those worrisome women. You can't ever escape them." I reply.

"Tell me about it. Honora nagged me to death the entire trip up here. Now it's your turn." Byleth states as he closes his eyes.

"Thank you…Byleth." I state.

The color of his hair hasn't changed back to its original color. What does this actually mean though? What I just witnessed was something one would only hear in a myth or a legend. An individual being bestowed with some kind of godlike power.

For the longest time, I disregarded the existence of the Sothis. Silently scoffing at those that did believe. But now I have to wonder if Sothis is the one that has gotten the last laugh, and who would have guessed Byleth would be the one she would use to prove me wrong.

Charley finally reaches the ground and takes off in a dead sprint. He catches up with Honora and overtakes her. His excitement and joy along with the tears in his eyes blind him, and he trips over his own feet in an attempt to get to me. Honora skids across the ice on her knees as Charley scrambles over on his hands and feet.

"You better hope your recovery is slow because I'm going to kick your ass the moment you can stand!" Charley's voice cracks as he tries to hide behind an angry persona.

"I'll see that he's walking in a couple days because I'm going to help you do it!" Honora adds as she props me up with her knee and readies some white magic.

"An iron blade has been snapped off in my back. Don't forget that…"

I've held on long enough. Charley and Honora are alive, Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard are standing at a distance and discussing the current series of events, and what happens when the three nations come together for a greater good. Not only did they save me, but they also saved the lives of all those students back in those cells.

Seteth is observing the site so he can write a report. Sylvain and Leonie are conversing with Felix about how this mission was a success. I close my eyes and let out a huge sigh of relief as Honora's gentle touch warms my chest…


	32. Chapter 30

The sound of a wooden door catching the floor triggers a response. I roll over and put something over my head.

"Artorias?" Honora's voice bounces off the walls.

"Yeah?" I yawn.

The ability to fight the energy swelling up overcomes me. I've tried to avoid waking up for as long as possible, but now the time has come. I sit up and rub the last of the dizziness out of my eyes. Honora sits down a medicinal gourd and fills a goblet with a red-looking fluid.

My eyes track around the room. It appears I'm in some kind of infirmary, but it isn't the one at Garreg Mach. Sitting in the corner of the room is Flayn. The brief mentions of what my dad did causes me to swell up with anger, but I keep my feelings suppressed and act like nothing is bothering me.

She is shaking her anxious legs just like a child ready to receive attention would. I don't know why she is here, but it can't be very good. If everything Kronya said was true, Flayn is probably here to scold me. Just like Rhea and Seteth would. Now that I know the reasoning behind why they hate me.

Honora holds out the goblet and insists I drink it. "Sudden spell of drowsiness." I fake a yawn and cover my head up with the blanket.

"Artorias, don't make me hold you down." Honora states.

"I'll think about it if you let me out to go get some tobacco, and a rolling paper." I reply.

"I'm not clearing you for something as stupid as that." Honora scowls.

"Well you better bring every knight in town to help you, because I'm not drinking that."

"So that's the way you want to play? Fine. I was considering on spending the night with you after you got out, but I guess I'll sort paperwork for Rhea instead."

"God…DAMNIT!" I slowly rip the blanket off the top of my head and take the goblet.

Flayn softly giggles as I tilt the cup up and hold my breath. Soured grape mash that's been seasoned with alcohol burns its way down my throat. The last of the pain is washed away with the wine, and all that is left behind is the sore feeling of strained muscle.

Something pokes me in the tongue as I sit the goblet down. My teeth bite down and trap an object. I push it out of my mouth and grab it. A tiny grape stem sits on the tip of my finger. I flick it away and lay back on the bed. "You didn't make that batch of wine. Did you?" I ask.

"No." Honora replies.

"Good, because it was awful."

"I have you know that was from Rhea's personal medicine stash. Wine she enchanted herself with white magic. If anything, you should be grateful."

"You're right sweetie. I am grateful." Grateful I'm not the one that paid a fortune for poorly made, unfiltered wine. I say under my breath. At least there was a genuine attempt to increase the overall value. Even though it just degraded the quality.

"Where's Charley?" I ask.

"He went to Jeralt's funeral with Leonie. She was pretty close to Jeralt and is taking it pretty hard." Honora says.

"I see. Speaking of which, where am I?"

"On the border of Charon. You were being held captive around Galatea territory."

"So why am I here?"

"Charley insisted that you be taken to a nearby infirmary the moment you passed out, and Catherine happened to know of this place."

I shake my head and stare up at the ceiling. To think Charley was actually able to track me from the moment of my capture, all the way up to Galatea, and he managed to do it all by himself. A sense of pride comes to me, but not in myself. That boy really has grown up and as happy as it makes me, it also saddens me.

This means he is almost the man I swore to make. A man that Garreg Mach would envy and respect. Dread fills my heart as I start to wonder what we'll do once I teach him everything. Will he actually become a knight and be assigned to missions that won't involve me? Hopefully not because I want to be on every mission he is.

Honora sits down on the bed and checks the markings on my body. All the stitches that lined the markings have been cut out and discarded. I hold up my left hand and look at where the nails were once stuck. There is a fair bit of scar tissue from the hole left behind, but it's completely healed, and I can still flex my palm and fingers without any kind of pain. Good. Which means I can still use a sword.

From what I am observing, I have access to several new abilities through these markings. The spiderbite, the talon and blood wing. It looks like Kronya' has also given me devil's tooth because the appearance of an interlocking mouth is on my palm. There's also the nine tails on my back, but that was from Kronya's statement before Thales knocked me out. Those are the only ones that I know anything about.

Honora puts her hand on my chest. Her fingers trace over the faded pink scars as she ascends up to the base of my neck. Honora's hand forms a series of triangles. I watch the motion and try to determine what this marking is. It looks like some kind of necklace that wraps around the base of my throat.

Where the set piece would be is a strange looking carving that resembles a five-pointed star. The skull of a bull comfortably rests within the star. Two, curled horns jut out of its head and point directly towards my shoulders. This is something I've never seen before. Most of the blood marking stuff has been covered in Kes' book, but this is something entirely new. Maybe it's something I overlooked.

"How could someone do such a horrible thing to you?" Honora softly whines as she touches my face.

"I'll be honest, I'm one of the lucky ones. There was a lot of people that didn't make it out." I reply as I take a hold of Honora's hand and kiss her knuckles.

Honora leans in and puts her arms around me. She kisses the side of my face and stands up. "Flayn wants to speak with you, so I'll just leave you two."

Honora waves me bye and shuts the door. Flayn pulls her chair up to my bedside, and I prop myself up with the extra pillows on the bed.

"How are you doing Artorias?"

"Fine. How about you?"

"I'm good…" Flayn replies as she ruffles her skirt.

"What's wrong?"

Flayn takes a deep breath and regains her fleeting confidence. Whatever she wants to talk about has shaken her to the core. It's definitely nothing good. "Artorias, I hate asking you this the moment you got out of confinement, but what did those people tell you?"

"That you and Seteth aren't who you say you are, and that my father is the one that killed your mother."

Flayn presses her hands into her eyes and shakes her head back and forth to try and alleviate some of the stress. "Artorias, I want you to know that I have always known who your ancestors were, and that I have never held you accountable for what Valek did to my mother. But my father, and Rhea, they aren't the ones that let things go. Sure, they preach mercy and forgiveness but deep down, they harbor a resentment towards your kind that exceeds anything fathomable."

"Well with Kes ripping the eyes out of Rhea's husband and Valek killing Seteth's wife, I can understand where the fear and hatred steeps from." I reply.

"And it's only going to get worse once they figure out you now possess all of the Agarthan's primal crests."

"Primal crests?"

"It's what the Agarthans used as a source of power before they discovered they could use our crests in their place. Primal crests act identical to an actual crest, but primal crests come at the cost of the user's own expense rather than the power granted from a Nabatean's blood."

"So that's why when Kes and Nemesis killed Sothis, they were able to make her crest immediately." I state.

"All of the crest markings that these nobles bear? They are modified designs of a primal crest." Flayn leans over and traces her finger around the top of my chest, "That marking that resembles a necklace? That's the precursor to the crest of flames, and only two people are known to be in possession of it. One of which is sitting in this room."

"And let me guess, my grandfather is the other one?"

"Correct."

"But why are me and Kes the only ones?"

"People from Kes' linage produce a special form of mana called origin. That primal crest is reserved for his bloodline only. Many years ago, I knew a group of Garreg Mach students that were trying to bestow this primal crest upon themselves. However, when they tried to draw the power out, they immediately died because the mana wasn't origin. Shortly after, Rhea and Seteth made it their mission to eradicate anything dealing with primal crests. Including people who bore them."

Flayn walks over to the frosted window and wipes the condensation from the glass pane. Glistening white snow falls from above and collects on the sill. She opens the window, and a blast of cold air dotted with snowflakes vigorously rush in. Flayn holds out her hand, and the raging wind yields.

The crest underneath the sleeve of her dress glows with intensity and burns an image through the black fabric. Flayn opens her palm and catches a handful of flakes. "You know, I remember a time when I actually had Agarthan friends, and when the first snow would come to Fodlan, I'd travel up to the border with them just to play in it. How I treasure those days."

The snow flakes turn to water and drip between the crevices over Flayn's hand, "Now, you're the only one left." She closes her hand, and the wind's strength builds back up.

"When you get back to Garreg Mach, I would advise you avoid the sanctuary as much as possible. I'll try and convince them that you're not a bad person."

"Why are you going out of your way to help me?" I ask.

"Because if you were as bad as everyone made you out to be, you would already be on your way to Kes with my blood and bones. In the language you taught me, '_you're my friend'._" Flayn says.

"You still remember that day by the pond." I chuckle.

"A Nabataean never forsakes a friend, and an Agarthan never forgets theirs." Flayn sits back down in her chair and straightens the hair clip holding her green hair back. "It seems this conversation is coming to its end. Charley, Leonie and Sylvain have just arrived."

"Thank you…Flayn. You know, it must not be easy. Knowing what Valek did and choosing not to hold me accountable."

"This world we live in has been messed up since I was a child, and it stems from both the Nabatean's and Agarthan's inability to let go of the past. My prayer is that you and Byleth will be the ones that come together and forge a future for what's left of our people. A future where both sides can rebuild." Flayn says.

My mind locks up, and I am instantly transported back to the moment Jeralt died. The image of him laying on that bed and staring at me with those bloodshot eyes seems all too real as I reach out to try and comfort the illusion that's distorted my mind. _"But I believe…with all my heart…that my son…is the one that will end this system one day. Artorias…will you help my son…?"_

"Artorias? Are you okay?" Flayn asks.

The illusion fades away, and my head snaps out of reflex from the bleeding image of mixing colors. I rub my eyes and suddenly, I'm back in the present. "Sorry. I just remembered something Jeralt said."

"Oh. I see."

I search my mind and try to think about what Jeralt said in his final moments. When he said something about ending this system, what exactly did he mean? Sure, he saw the effects of what the crest system was doing to the country, but deep down, did he actually know about me and where I really came from? That my grandfather was the creator of primal crests, and a co-founder to actual crests inherited through consumed Nabatean blood?

Somehow, Byleth is a descendent from a Nabatean bloodline. I want to assume that Sothis is probably an ancestor since he went berserk and was bestowed a power I'd never seen before. However, I still remain skeptical. If Rhea was Sothis' daughter, and Rhea's husband was killed thousands of years ago, how did Byleth come along? Rhea would have been the sole survivor of Sothis' bloodline. I don't recall Rhea ever remarrying. Unless…

No, Rhea doesn't seem like the kind that would mess around. Especially when she witnessed her husband having his eyes ripped out. Horror like that sticks with you for all eternity. This is something I can't ask Rhea up front. Especially since Kes was the one torturing her husband, but none of this adds up.

Now Kronya said something about Rhea trying to create life from her own blood, but even if she was able to successfully create artificial life, Byleth wouldn't be a creation because Serios has a different crest compared to Sothis. This is so confusing!

"Artorias! You better put some clothes on because I'm coming in! SPLOOSH!" Charley yells as twists the knob and kicks the door open.

He bursts into the room as Leonie and Sylvain follow him in. Despite that Leonie looks like she was crying, her and Sylvain laugh at Charley's outburst.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here." Charley says to Flayn.

"I was just talking to Artorias about some upcoming events, and what to expect over the next couple months." Flayn replies.

"Yeah. She's going to be assisting us here in the near future."

"Assisting how?"

"Oh, like helping Rhea and Seteth figure out what mission would be best for your skillset." Flayn lies.

"I see." Charley answers as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Awake?"

"I think so."

"Well good. You were still asleep when I left yesterday." Charley replies as Leonie sits down by his side. Sylvain pats around his chest like he is trying to find something. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and desperately searches for something. "Ah ha! Here it is!" Sylvain pulls out a little gold can and hands it to Charley.

"While I was out. We decided to get you a little something. Well, this was originally my idea, but Sylvain and Leonie stole it. So I'm in the process of getting you something else." Charley states as Leonie hands him a small tarsal.

"You were the one that didn't have enough money to buy it!" Sylvain says.

"I covered all but two coins!" Charley replies.

"I told you to buy something cheaper, but no! You just had to get the gold can!"

"Because Artorias likes the gold can!" Charley replies as the both of them argue back and forth.

Charley pulls out a rolling paper from the tarsal and lines it with some gold streak tobacco. My mouth waters at the thought of finally having a good plug of tobacco. Charley seals it shut and holds it out to me. I reach over but his hand zips back and prevents me from taking the roll.

"Beg and I'll give it to you." Charley says as he avoids my hand. I finally adjust my movements and hook his hand as it moves down. Charley realizes that I finally got it from him.

"I'd never beg for anything." I tease.

"Hold on a second! Let me take care of this!" Charley states as I put the roll in my mouth.

Charley takes a deep breath and summons some mana into his hand. The lines forming a basic fire spell etch themselves into his palm. As the spell is about to cast, Charley drains some of the mana to the point that he needs a catalyst to activate the sigil. He snaps his finger, and a ball of fire hovers within his hand.

"I reckon I'd show off the fact that I now know fire."

"Where'd you learn that?" I ask as I stick the roll's tip into the open flame and puff.

"From watching you when you'd light up. I memorized the sigil that formed in your hand and practiced it when I was alone."

"So, you learned a basic fire spell from simply watching me light my tobacco?"

"And I about burned my house down the first time I tried it." He says.

"You could have just asked me to teach you the spell." I chuckle.

"Yeah, but where's the sincerity in that?" Charley states.

"Wasn't worth the risk of burning your house down though." Everyone in the room laughs as I softly puff on the tobacco to keep it from smoking the room up.

"Charley?"

"Yes Artorias?"

"I want you to know that you passed your test."

"Well I figured since I saved your life, I better receive the highest grade that can possibly be given." Charley replies with a smug grin.

"How does a D sound?" I tease.

"Go jump in a lake then." Charley laughs with me.

"But seriously, if it wasn't for you, then I would have died back there. Thank you." I say.

Charley shrugs his shoulders, "You saved me at Zanado, you took me in and raised me like…" He instantly cuts his words off and takes a deep breath. "Well, you were always there for me. The least I could have done was be there for you."

I play along, but deep down, I'm kind of upset. I seriously thought for a moment he was going to admit it. However, it does bring joy to my soul knowing that despite all my mistakes and ill choices, Charley stayed with me, and that alone is enough to light a fire in my heart. No matter how hard it gets, I will strive to be something Charley never had in his life…

Meanwhile…

Kroyna and Faceless pace back and forth outside the door. Neither of them aware of what is going to happen. Kronya's failure to contain the experiment combined with Faceless' inability to drive the enemy away has them both worried to the point of madness. Kronya sticks the tip of her knife in her mouth and chews while Faceless taps the wall with her massive sword.

The front door opens up. Kronya and Faceless immediately drop to their knees and bow. "Forgive us for our failure."

"I'm not the one you need to be asking forgiveness from." The Agarthan man's metallic voice states through his face mask. A black visor keeps his eyes concealed.

Kronya and Faceless return to their feet and follow the man. On the other end of the room sits an elevated platform. Thales stands guard at the base of the steps. Kroyna's head sinks down in disappointment while Faceless closes her eyes underneath the mask. Thales' blistered look of hatred shakes both of them to the core, but they know that this is nothing compared to what Kes can do.

The three of them make their way to the top. Behind a curtain forged out of wyvern skin is an elderly man writing in a black book. Kronya and Faceless take a deep breath as the escort opens the curtains and allows them entry.

"Deepest apologies Father Kes, but the people you have requested are." The man says.

"Yes. Please, have a seat. I'll be with you shortly." Kes replies as he dunks his quill in a vial of blood and continues writing on the fleshy page.

Kronya and Faceless sit down in two chairs built out of bone. Kes finishes the words on the current page and puts the quill down.

"So I heard you found my grandson."

"Yes." Kronya says.

"Where is he?"

"He got away." Kronya replies.

"Got away you say? And how do you suppose he did that?"

"He had his apprentice trail us back to our camp." Faceless says.

"We made sure we weren't being followed, but that boy must have been using some advanced techniques because there wasn't one trace of him." Kronya adds.

"I see. Please. Tell me more." Kes states as he strokes his white beard.

"Thales and Solon told me to mark him."

"Without my approval?"

"They said he was going to be a peace offering in hopes that you would lend us your strength."

"And look at what that peace offering got us. Solon is dead, Thales' northern army has been annihilated, and now my grandson is running around Fodlan with power he should not possess." Kes states in a very calm voice.

"I think Thales forgot to mention that our Garreg Mach insider has turned on us." Faceless weakly states.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. She openly attacked me."

"That, and I think that instructor that was Jeralt's son is the fell star." Kronya says.

"What?"

"He's the one that saved Artorias."

"The fell star didn't actively seek to kill him?"

"No. In fact, he was one of the first into battle apart from Artorias' apprentice."

Kronya's statement catches Kes off guard. He leans back in his chair and dwells on a deep thought. Something that has been bothering him since the day of his defeat. "How did she do it?"

"Do what?" Faceless asks.

"Nothing. Send Thales up here. I must speak with him."

"What about our punishment?" Kronya says.

"Your mistake maybe rectified if we are able to turn this around. Kronya, give me that eyeball, and you are free to go."

"Thank you, father." Kronya and Faceless say at the same exact time.

Kronya hands Kes the eye of Serios' husband, and he stores it away for work later. The guard escorts the both of them out as Kes re-dips his quill and writes again. The mention of the fell star revives his memories of the past. Memories of friendship and cooperation that ultimately ended in betrayal and war. A part of Kes wants to believe that it was entirely his fault.

Yet, the memories of his wife's death blind him. He clinches the quill to the point that it nearly snaps between his fingers. Anger directed at Sothis causes Kes to clench his teeth. Yet, that only makes up a small fraction of the hatred he fills towards Thales.

"So Kronya tells me that your insider, the girl I spent three years experimenting on so she could barely have the strength to gain the crest of flames has turned on you."

"I have made alternate preparations. All I need is your help."

"You know, the last time we had this conversation, I told you no. Yet, you still went out and started a war." Kes replies.

"You know just as well as I do that it's either us, or them. It's always been like that, and with the resurrection of the fell star, how much longer until we've been exterminated?" Thales replies as he sits down.

"My army maybe bigger than yours, but one of your men is the equivalent of twenty of mine. That day at Zanado? We had that place burned down before the Nabateans could arm themselves. Think about it. You help me, and you get to take down Serios herself. Her gnarled bones bent into a relic. Kes, the man who truly avenged his wife and best friend by wiping out the last of Sothis' family." Thales states.

"Give me some time to think about it." Kes half-heartedly states.

"You have until the end of the Pegasus moon to make a decision. If you refuse to join me, and I immerge victorious, I will return with all three nations, and annihilate what's left of your clan and family. Starting with your grandson." Thales states.

Kes sighs in disappointment as Thales leaves the room. The day he has been dreading has finally come. Serios hasn't attacked him in the last thousand years, and he hasn't attacked her. However, Serios' successful resurrection of the fell star has him concerned for his clan's future. What if Thales' statement about Serios trying to successfully exterminate them is true?

But if that was the case, why did the fell star save his grandson? If that was actually part of the plan, wouldn't he have killed Artorias the moment he became one with Sothis? A plan forms in Kes' head, and he chuckles.

"Oh Serios. I can safely say your foolish mistake could end up being our downfall. Yet, I couldn't imagine a more glorious way for us to go. Two bitter enemies dying at the hands of our own creations."

Kes picks up the eye Kronya left him and works on modifying the ocular ability. He puts a unique sigil similar to his marking within the pupil and seals it. Kes nods in satisfaction and puts the eyeball away.

"Is everything okay sir?" Kes' personal guard asks from outside the curtain.

"Yes come in."

The man walks in and Kes motions that he can sit down. Kes pulls out two goblets formed from pure silver and pours a healthy portion of mead in both.

"I heard you and Thales discussing what's going to happen. What's going on?"

"He's backed me into a corner. I've tried to push this off for as long as I can, but the day I warned you about has finally come." Kes replies as he hands the man a goblet.

"Does this mean we will be working for Thales now?"

"I'm afraid so. However, I have an idea. It's dangerous, and there are no guarantees, but it's better than laying down for him. After Thales leaves, gather the men, women and children."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Even with our superior skill, there's no way we can take on Thales' numbers. Especially if he manages to get all three nations behind him. So instead of fighting, I'm coming up with a contingency. One that will fall upon my grandson, and this man who has merged with Sothis."

"We will help Thales with his plan, but when my plan comes together, I want the men that are capable of fighting to pull back and ensure that the women and children are taken care of. Tomorrow, we'll go find a place our clan will be safe if things don't work out."

"I understand why my ancestor was your best friend. In all the years I've been here, you've never let us down." The guard says.

"And hopefully I won't fail this time either." Kes replies as he thinks to his grandson. Deep down, he regrets that he is having to do this, but because of the circumstance, there is no other choice. Kes holds up his goblet and proposes a toast, "To those that will perish for Fodlan's new dawn."

"To those that will sacrifice everything for the greater good."

"And to the arbiters that will experience unmitigated damnation for Fodlan's new dawn, Artorias, and the Fell Star…"

End of the Guardian Moon Arc…


	33. Chapter 31

The sounds of Charley preparing breakfast, sudden bursts of fire and muffled swears directed towards an immediate action filters through the floorboards of the second floor. Flayn told us that we should stay away from the sanctuary for a while until she could talk Rhea and Seteth down.

In order to keep why we are really staying away a secret, I told Charley that it was because that blacksmith was going to charge Rhea for fixing my sword. Since the day I was released from that infirmary in Charon, I've been staying at Charley's house. So far, there's been no word on whether Flayn has been successful, or if she failed. Either way, I feel that my time at Garreg Mach is running short.

Hanneman and Honora came by a couple days ago to bring me my armor and claymore, but they didn't stay and talk. Call me worrisome, but Honora would never pass up an opportunity to speak with me. Nor would Hanneman. I reckon if they didn't want to talk, then Flayn hasn't made any progress.

I open up Kes' book to the table of contents and find the section that contains all the primal crests, and what they are capable of doing. The first page that starts the section is a compilation of figures using various primal crests. The symbol representing the primal crest along with what page number it's on are written by the images contained within a specific box. Unfortunately, there's nothing but a description of why Kes made a primal crest strictly for his lineage.

_Upon seeing what Sothis is truly capable of, it is clear that nobody other than me is able to effectively do battle against her. Partially because of the friendship we shared in the past. I should have killed her when I had the chance, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My wife would still be here if I wasn't so weak. A mistake I won't ever make again. _

_As a testament to my mission to kill Sothis and her people, I am creating a cursed marking specifically for my bloodline. A commitment that I will bring an end to Sothis, and her people. Sothis is many things, and fearful of horned bulls is one of them. Therefore, Moloch's locket will be the perfect mark for me. A reminder that messing with a bull will always get you the horn._

I look at my chest and examine the necklace like marking. So, this thing is called Moloch's locket? What exactly does it do? I continue reading, but unlike all the other markings, there isn't anything that describes how to activate Moloch's locket.

Maybe it's like the others. I take my claymore and softly drag it across my shoulder. A tiny, red bead bursts through the severed flesh and slowly hangs off the cut. More blood collects within the bead, and it slowly drips.

I summon some mana and channel it through to where the locket is. The star within the marking spins, and the eyes of the bull glow red as the mana pulls blood from the leaking wound. Crimson and mana fill the entire locket, but nothing appears to be happening. I flip over a couple pages, but the section about Moloch's locket ends and moves onto the spider bite mark.

Is it that dangerous, or was it just a little ploy instituted by Kes to antagonize Sothis? He did say that the marking reserved for his lineage would be a symbol that he would kill Sothis, and all of her people. Maybe it requires a catalyst, but what would it be?

When it comes to mana, a sudden rush of energy such as a finger snap, or clapping one's hands together is more than enough to kick start the spell, but since this primal crest is up around my neck, there isn't really any way for me to use a catalyst.

The only thing I can come up with is that because Kes created it as a means to show Sothis how much he despised her for killing his wife, maybe this one is fueled by hatred. Similar to how certain spells can be greatly amplified with how much emotion one pours into it. Since Kes is willing to kill off all the Nabateans because of what happened to his wife, maybe that was the catalyst. That, or he was just making it up as a means to raise morale among the Agarthans.

"Good morning Artorias!" Charley yells outside the room I'm staying in.

"Morning Charley." I reply as I pat the blood off my shoulder with a piece of weaved cotton.

The door slowly opens up, and the first thing I see is those pink strands he calls hair. Charley's head pops through the crack, and the smug grin on his face leads me to believe he's got some kind of stupid remark to make.

"Honora is hiding in the closet, isn't she?"

"Shut up." The both of us laugh.

"Anyway, breakfast is ready. I'll be waiting."

"Thanks Charley."

I put my armor on, mount my claymore to my back and head downstairs. Charley slices up some cheese and puts it on top of a piece of bread inside the skillet. I get into the cabinets and gather some plates, and what's left of the honey. Neither of us have received our commissions yet so all we have left is scraps.

I hold out the plate and pick the bread off the skillet as Charley extinguishes the flame in the fire place. There's four pieces of cheese toast. Three for Charley and one for me. Damnit. At this rate, I'll have to go steal something while Charley attempts to hunt or fish if we don't get our commissions within the next couple of days. Since it's winter though, it would take a decent amount of time to break through the ice if the water is frozen. As for hunting, most of the deer won't be moving around like they do in the summer.

We're falling on hard times, but I'll get us through this one way or another. I made the mistake of trying to pawn Charley off before, and I'm not going to do it again. I put three pieces of toasted cheese bread on Charley's plate and sit down.

"I'm not eating three pieces. Here." Charley says as he offers me a piece.

"You need your strength."

"And you don't?"

"I'll get something later."

"You said that yesterday, and you didn't eat anything. Now take it." Charley states.

"Fine."

I bite into the crispy bread and chew. The bittersweet cheese slightly seasons the crunchy bread, but it isn't anything spectacular. Charley quickly gobbles his up and proceeds to eat his second. The boy is hungry. No doubt about it.

"You want some honey?" Charley asks.

"It's all yours."

He takes the lid off and pours the rest of it on his plate. As the honey drizzles out of the glass, an idea comes to me. What's the point of even staying here anymore if Flayn can't convince Rhea and Seteth? Why should my sword serve someone that has done nothing but despise my existence, and why should Charley have to suffer simply for being my apprentice?

"Hey Charley?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you say we go on a trip?" I ask.

"What kind of trip?"

"Well, I've been thinking about leaving Garreg Mach. Maybe settling down in a village far off."

"What for?"

"It's just something that's crossed my mind, and with my recent stunt, I think Rhea and Seteth may cut their ties with me, and if that's the case, I need a place to go."

Charley looks down at his plate and thinks to himself. He seems conflicted on what to say. I can feel it in his heart. Half of him wants to go with me. Yet, there's something that's preventing him from giving me a solid answer.

"I don't really know. I'd need some time to think about it." Charley states.

"Well you think about it. But for now, I have something for you." I reply.

"Same here! Wait right here!" Charley rushes into the other room and tosses some objects across the room. He mumbles statements such as "Where did I put it" and "It should be here! Where did the damn thing go?"

Charley cheers and runs back into the kitchen with something wrapped in a burlap bag. He sits it down in front of me and backs away, "Go ahead! Open it!"

I pull the bag off a box and open the hatch. Inside is a piece of paper. I flip it over and sit it on the table. An extremely detailed picture of Charley has been expertly painted onto the paper. They even managed to get the pink the same hue as his real hair color. Everything, from his eyes to where the picture cuts off at his shoulders is perfect.

"I know it's just a stupid picture, but I wanted you to have one of me. Since I was bred for a crest and didn't bear one, nobody will ever remember me, but out of everyone I've known in my life, I want to be remembered by you the most."

"Don't talk like that. I think it's an incredible gift." I reply with a smile.

My heart is swelling up like a waterlogged tomato as a pain clogs my head. Emotions deep from within slowly rise, but I keep calm and put the picture in mother's journal. As bad as my eyes want to water from Charley's kind gift, I fight it off.

"I honestly thought you were going to hate it." He nervously laughs.

"I'm not the one that expresses a lot of love. Especially since I don't receive a lot, but I can safely say that you will always have a place in my heart, and my soul." I answer.

"I was always hesitant to say such a thing, because I grew up hating mine with every breath I took, but I can truly say that I have come to respect and love you as my father." Charley says.

His statement pushes me over the edge. A tear rips through my right eye and rolls down my face. A surreal feeling over comes me. I reach up and pat the right side of my face as I struggle to breathe. Memories of how I watched Charley grow as a man catch me off guard. Starting with the night he cried in my arms. The next one is when he took me to meet his grandparents, followed by how he successfully saved me and those kids that were being held captive.

"Well, I suppose it's time we go get your graduation present." I calmly state.

"The dishes can wait I suppose." Charley adds as we exit the house.

He locks up while I take out some tobacco, and strike a match across the grain of my armor. Heat vapors radiate off the match's head as it lights the tip of the roll. A thick, white blanket coats the ground, and the houses off in the distance. Footsteps from where people were walking yesterday have almost been completely filled up and frozen over with a sheet of ice.

Snow crunches under my boots as Charley and I make our way to the sanctuary. Students as well as Garreg Mach faculty are tossing snowballs and sliding across the frozen river. Charley hops over the bridge's railing and drops down. He runs off towards Sylvain, Leonie, that kid named Fletcher and the girl he took to the ball.

The four of them are building a snowman as Charley picks up a handful of snow and packs it as tightly as he can. I watch from a distance as he conceals the ball in his hand and approaches Leonie. He puts his arm around Leonie and pats her shoulder with the snowball a couple times. Charley steps back and pelts her in the back with it.

Leonie shivers and shakes the exploded ball of white off her shoulders as she spins around and says something to Charley. He claps his hands and takes off running through the snowfield. She quickly gives chase as they weave in between students. Leonie catches Charley by the collar of his armor and viscously jerks him to the ground. His head disappears underneath the white layer as Leonie jumps on top of him. Flurries of collected snow fly up and meet with the snow falling down as the two roll around across the field. Sylvain and Fletcher point and laugh as Leonie holds Charley down and makes him apologize for his unprovoked assault.

It appears Charley isn't going to be going with me to the sanctuary's entrance. No wonder he's conflicted on wanting to leave. When he first arrived, nobody really acknowledged his existence, but now he has friends. One of which I think likes him more than a friend, and it seems he feels the same way.

As safe as it would be to flee if things were to go wrong, what if Charley refuses? I can't just leave him here alone. Nor will I. The fear that my sword may have to be pointed towards Garreg Mach makes me feel uneasy. That means that not only would I have to fight against the knights I hate, but the ones I've come to respect, As much as I say I could, I don't have the will to kill someone as kind hearted as Alois, or a young student like Felix.

I cross my arms and try to harden my heart by focusing on all the bad Rhea and Seteth have done to me and Charley. However, when it comes to someone like Alois, he's done nothing wrong, and in a less meaningful way, Catherine hasn't either. She's just that overconfident fool that would rush into something without giving any thought simply because Rhea told her too.

Either way, I'm going to have to think of something. If we don't leave now, and Flayn fails, then Charley and I could be in huge trouble, and even if she says she was successful, who's to say Rhea and Seteth weren't lying? They've been lying to the people about crests and relics for centuries. So why would someone tell the truth when it involves something they are determined to eradicate?

I make my way into Garreg Mach's entrance while Charley continues to play with Leonie and the others. The blacksmith that was working on that request is hammering steel for some other weapon while mine, and the one he built hangs up on the wall.

"Morning sir." I say.

"Good morning. You here for the swords?"

"They ready?"

"Yes."

He sits the piece of steel back in the blast furnace and reheats it as he takes his gloves off and washes the oil off his hands. The one that he built has a sheathe that's been stained a vibrant shade of red. The blacksmith hands me Akumu while he slowly pulls the other out of its sheathe.

The blade shines like polished silver as the blacksmith openly displays it with girth and pride. His hands wrap around the red and white leather pattern on the handle as he takes up a stance a knight would. "No warps, folded seventeen times, and stained to bring out the damascus pattern within the blade."

The damascus pattern forms a series of circles that look identical to a drawing of a sun. The blacksmith lays the sword on the table. I pick it up and check to make sure it's exactly like mine. Even though it's slightly heavier, he got extremely close to how mine handles. A very impressive display of craftsmanship and skill considering he has never made such a sword.

"Speak with Seteth and Rhea about your payment. Thank you." I say as I take the sheathe from the man and pack it up.

"No, thank you." The blacksmith replies as he continues back to his work.

When we get back to the house, I will get the iron dyes out and carve the sword's name into the blade. Now everyone will know that Charley is not an apprentice anymore, but a man capable of wielding a sword responsibly.

Charley is helping Leonie and Sylvain finish the snowman while Fletcher and his woman collect rocks for the eyes and buttons. I ease down the slope and make my way towards them. Everyone in between me and Charley step out of the way.

"Your graduation present." I state as I bow and present the sword.

Charley gasps as he grabs his face and tries to hold back his excitement. He takes a deep breath, and attempts to collect himself, but it isn't working. The sword rattles within the sheathe as Charley struggles to keep his composure. He closes his eyes and presses his thumb against the guard.

"Artorias…This is just like yours." He says with a baffled attitude.

"A symbol that you are the one and only apprentice I ever had."

He slightly pulls the sword out and stares into the shiny blade. The sound of the steel scraping against the sheathe causes the grains to ring as he pulls it all the way out. He hands the red sheathe to me and assumes a combative stance. Everyone surrounding us backs off as he closes his eyes.

"Artorias? Pack a snowball and throw it in my direction."

I scoop up some snow and wad it within my gauntlets. Charley changes his stance and listens. He acts like the sword is in its sheathe and switches to a defensive position. I toss the ball up into the air and spike it in his direction. He adjusts his position and preforms a cross. Silver glint from the snowball forms within, and it breaks off into four even pieces as it hits the ground and scatters.

The crowd of boys and girls jump, clap and scream with riled excitement as Charley flicks the water off the blade. I hand the sheathe to Sylvain and pull my sword out. Charley holds his sword out as the silver and black steel meet.

The grains within both weapons rattle and shake as we press them into one another with increasing amounts of pressure. Charley snaps away and swipes high. I slam my sword's edge into his as hard as I can as we both back off.

"Did it survive?" I ask.

"It did. The blade isn't nicked. Nor is there any deformation."

"If it can survive an impact like that, then there's nothing that can really break it."

Sylvain hands the sheathe to Charley, and he ties it to his waist, "What's going on over there?" Charley points behind me.

I turn around and find what he is pointing at. Off in the distance, there is a steady flow of black smoke bellowing out of the forest. The only thing I can think of is some novice casting a spell they shouldn't have, and now its slowly spiraling out of their control.

"I don't know, but I'm going to beat someone within a sliver of their life for starting a fire that close to my house." I state as I take off in the direction of the smoke.

Charley, Sylvain, Leonie, Fletcher, his woman, and the students that were observing us fall behind and follow me. We pass the location I thought the fire would have started, but there is no burning trees or ash from the nearby shrubbery. The snow hasn't even been melted. Maybe it's just a little further up. It can't be that close to my house. We pass another location that hasn't been scorched by fire.

"No…no…no…" I mumble as I pick up the pace and break into a dead sprint in the direction of my house.

"No, no, no, GODAMNIT! NO!" I shout as a portion of my front porch collapses.

The smoldering roof throws sparks up into the air as the window coughs a continuous stream of black. Smoke bleeds through the slits where the wooden logs are stacked on top of one another. Raging flames paint the inside of my house a bright orange color. The hinges of my door have been broken, and the door lays flat against the ground. Almost like someone forced their way in.

"Fire! FIRE!" The students yell.

Fletcher and those capable of pulling moisture out of the atmosphere form water spells and cast it upon the inferno. Sylvain, Leonie and the students that aren't able to use magic scoop up snow and toss it upon the blackened wood. Charley grabs a couple of my bathing pails, fills them full of snow and melts it with a fire spell.

Students grab the pails and throw the water on the outside of the house. They quickly return to Charley as he fills the pails back up with melted snow. Fletcher tosses as much water as he can on the house as I form pockets of wind around patches of flames to draw the air out. A slab on the roof slides off and crumbles into a burning pile of rubble.

The aching wood creaks and groans as the middle of the house slowly sags. A rafter snaps, and the entire house collapses upon itself. A massive puff of black cinders line the smoke as everyone realizes that it's hopeless. There's no saving the house. Not that there was a chance in the first place.

I collapse to my knees and try to keep myself from succumbing to the hatred eating away at my heart. Charley sits down by my side and tries to comfort me. However, nothing can quell the anger boiling inside. There was no need for this.

All Rhea had to do was have someone deliver a note saying I wasn't welcome at Garreg Mach. She could have even sent a small envoy of knights. I probably would have beat them all before I fled, but anything would have been better than burning my house down.

"Artorias? Are you okay?" Charley asks.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine." I reply as I stand up and make my way towards Garreg Mach.

"What are you doing?"

"I think I'm going to go have a little chat with Rhea. Maybe she knows who burned my house down."

"You're not implying that she did this? Do you?" Sylvain asks.

"Of course not. I just want to see if there was someone within the knights that might have." I lie.

"Artorias, don't do anything you might regret." Fletcher says.

"It's just going to be a civil conversation." I reply.

We make our way back onto the road that leads to Garreg Mach and enter the sanctuary. A massive crowd of various students are gathered around the black eagles' classroom for some reason. I stand on the tips of my boots and try to see what the ruckus is all about. Faint glimpses of knights escorting a line of prisoners appear in between the gaps of the crowd. Students jeer and boo as they angerly shake their fists and threaten to push through the knights holding them back.

"It can't be true! Edelgard can't be the flame emperor!" A male student yells.

"Bernadetta did nothing wrong!" A girl shouts.

Linhardt is a good man! There's no way he'd resort to such a cowardly act!" Another student states.

I touch the shoulder of a boy from the Leicester Alliance and get his attention. "What's going on here?"

"I'm guessing you just showed up? The knights received a tip from an anonymous source that Edelgard was the flame emperor, and that her class planned the attack on the holy mausoleum as well as the abduction of Flayn, and those students. When they checked Edelgard's room, they found a mask that was exactly like the one the flame emperor wore. There were also various crest stones and relics in the rooms of the students."

"WHAT!?" I shout.

"That's what I said! I don't believe a word of it! This is staged! STAGED!" The boy rages.

In the front of the line is Edelgard and Hanneman. They got Hanneman too? I'm almost positive where this is going, and no matter what, it can't happen. Since most of them are nobility, they will receive some kind of trial. Whereas Doretha, and the commoners won't. I do a quick head count: Doretha, Edelgard, Ferdinand, Caspar, Hubert, Bernadetta, Hanneman, that one girl from Brigid. Petra, I think, Linhardt as well as four more students that happened to be in the class room.

I motion that we need to get out of here. We all take off in a quick walk and head for the monastery's exit at the eastern end. Charley falls to the back of the group and keeps an eye out while I lead the way. In the distance, I can see the shiny glint off a plate legging fixing to round the corner of a building. I point to the left and everyone hops down an alley that takes us through the garden. Fletcher yanks his uniform off and turns it inside out, "it's a good thing I skipped class today."

"Yeah, but it won't be long until they hunt you down. Sylvain? Leonie? I suggest if you don't want to be dragged into this, then you better leave while you can." I state.

"What? While we just stand off to the side and watch? I don't think so." Leonie replies.

"You do realize that I'm about to do something extremely stupid?"

"Yeah, but with what I've witnessed, someone intentionally burned your house down to keep you away from Edelgard and Hanneman." Sylvain states.

"The perfect diversion." Charley adds.

"Charley? How safe would your house be?" I ask.

"I registered it under a fake name when I first arrived, and since Skullface killed the magistrate several months ago, it should buy us some time."

"Good."

We exit out the eastern gate and make our way back to the house. Charley rushes ahead and opens the door for us. Everyone takes a seat around the dining room table as Charley locks the front door. I wedge an unused table to help keep it barred. It may be a bit much, but when the night comes, there won't be anyone here to help hold off the knights if they managed to find Fletcher here.

"What's the plan?" Sylvain asks.

"Once it gets dark, Charley and I are going to go break Edelgard's class out."

"We going lethal?" Charley asks.

"It would make it easier in the short run, but if this happens to be a misunderstanding due to a result of me and Rhea, killing a knight would only seal our fates as criminals. Until I know for sure who burned my house down and framed Edelgard, rendering everyone unconscious would be the best course of action." I reply.

"Why do you think it was Rhea that burned your house down?" Fletcher asks.

"Long story short, Sothis killed my grandmother. My grandfather, Kes killed Sothis and tore the eyes out of Rhea's husband. Rhea killed my grandfather's best friend, and she holds me accountable for what Kes did despite it being an age-old conflict." I reply.

Everyone stares at me in disbelief. Even Charley doesn't seem to believe me. Which I can't say I blame them. The story of Sothis has been taught as if it actually happened, but as the years went by, her acts of power eventually faded into legends fueled by mythology.

"That, and I may have made fun of Rhea's mom and those that practiced white magic. Sorry about that. I know you practice white magic…"

"Rebecca." Fletcher's girlfriend says.

"Rebecca." I say as I try to bring the conversation back to my original point.

"I don't expect you to believe me, but when I was being held captive in Galatea country, my captors kept bringing up Kes and how him and this guy named Thales were the saviors of the Agarthans, and that they were going to force me to join them because they want to wipe out what's left of the Nabateans."

"I honestly can't tell if what you are saying is true, or if it's some kind of delusion, but the fact you were able to explain this without stuttering leads me to believe it's true." Leonie says.

"Determining whether or not Artorias' statements are true isn't the point. The commoners of Edelgard's house will be executed way before the nobles will be. We have to act now." Rebecca states.

"Then its settled. Charley and I will break Edelgard and her class out tonight. As for everyone else, you will remain here until the mission is over."

"Why?" Leonie asks.

"Because you kids were trained for frontal assaults and battlefields. Not espionage and stealth. One slip up, and those commoners will be dead before we even breach the walls."

"What if something happens?" Fletcher asks.

"In the event if something does, Charley will come back and get you. He has a safe place we can go."

"And what exactly are you going to do?" Charley crosses his arms and glares at me.

"Someone has to act as the decoy. What? Do you seriously think anyone in Garreg Mach can catch me? Let alone, beat me in a fight if it comes to that?" I reply.

Charley sighs and rubs his face in frustration. Almost like he knows I'm right, but his nature is preventing him from truly believing it. "It doesn't change the fact I'm going to worry."

"Worrying is bad for your health." I tease.

Everyone reluctantly agrees that this is the best way to go about this. Sylvain, Leonie, Rebecca and Fletcher want to contribute more, but it would just put them in much more danger than they already are. It won't be long until Garreg Mach sends out a party of knights to try and find Fletcher.

"Charley? You go keep an eye on the back. I'll watch the front." I state.

"Yes Artorias."

I sit down by one of the windows and slightly prop the curtain open to keep an eye on the front yard while Charley slides a chair over to the back door.

"Stay away from the windows as much as possible." I say.

"Can do." Leonie, and the others acknowledge the statement.

"Do you have any weapons?" Sylvain asks.

"I don't have much, but there's a bow, some arrows and a couple pikes in the basement." Charley replies.

Leonie sits by Charley while Sylvain, Rebecca and Fletcher open the door leading down into the basement. Hopefully nothing will happen and everyone will actually take a step back and look at the bigger picture rather than jumping to conclusions.

The idea that someone planted evidence in the rooms of all the black eagle students has me confused, and now, I'm starting to think that maybe Rhea didn't have anything to do with my house being burned.

Two major events in the same day? It's not impossible, but the fact it happened almost the exact same time is making me question whether or not this was an actual coincidence. It's been nearly a month since that incident at Galatea. If Rhea really did want me dead or was trying to provoke me, why didn't she target Charley or burn my house down sooner? The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that there's an external force trying to pit me and Rhea against one another…


End file.
